


Lovers, Fools, and Madmen

by Uakari



Category: Cardcaptor Sakura, Tsubasa: Reservoir Chronicle, xxxHoLic
Genre: AU, Multi, Shakespeare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-02
Updated: 2014-07-25
Packaged: 2017-10-14 08:06:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 77,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/147151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Uakari/pseuds/Uakari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU; loosely based on <em>A Midsummer Night's Dream</em>.  When Lord Touya seeks the Queen's counsel to forbid his sister to wed her childhood love, he isn't prepared for the interference wrought by two disgraced fairies to thwart his plans. Which is probably just as well; it’s not as if they have a clue in heaven or hell how to deal with these foolish mortals…</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_Lovers and madmen have such seething brains,_  
Such shaping fantasies, that apprehend  
 _More than cool reason ever comprehends._  
 _The lunatic, the love, and the poet,_  
 _Are of imagination all compact:_  
 _One sees more devils than vast hell can hold –_  
 _That is the madman;_  
 _The lover, all as frantic,_  
 _Sees Helen’s beauty in a brow of Egypt._  
 _The poet’s eye, in a fine frenzy rolling,_  
 _Doth glance from Heaven to Earth, from Earth to Heaven;_  
 _And, as imagination bodies forth_  
 _The forms of things unknown, the poet’s pen_  
 _Turns them to shapes, and gives to airy nothing_  
 _A local habitation and a name._  


  
_-William Shakespeare_   
_A Midsummer Night’s Dream, Vi_

 

“Come on, Kuro-horny; it’s just up this way!”

“Dammit!  What did you call me now?” Kurogane seethed as he wound his way through the dense forest, following the faint spec of blond darting quickly between tree trunks.  “Slow down, would you?  The path is all rocky…”

“Still haven’t mastered those hooves after all this time?” an annoyingly chipper voice warbled in his ear.  Kurogane spun to glare, but only caught a flash of gold as the owner of the voice dodged to his left.  “And Kuro-horny sounds so much better than Kuro-antlery, don’t you think?”

“Neither of them sound good!” Kurogane winced as he felt a hand molesting his horns from behind, “Let go!”  He kicked backwards, hoping to land at least one blow before the blond zipped away again, but his hooves were not suited to the rocky path and he stumbled, crashing ass-over-teakettle onto the forest floor.

Six years.  Six years he had been forced to live in this ridiculous body.  It was awful and he was never entirely sure which part he hated most.  The useless hooves definitely ranked high on the list; the simple hinge-joint ankle made travel over even the least craggy ground a ridiculous obstacle course and had left him scarred in black and blue on more than one occasion.  Not that you could see most of the bruises – oh _no_ – they were nicely covered for the most part by the obnoxious fur that covered him from waist to foot.  Obstinate, spiky, black hair that refused to be tamed, even with the strictest of grooming regimens.  How many days of his life had he lost combing through the lamentable pelage?  Picking away nits and ticks?  Scratching away the damnable crural dandruff?  He didn’t even want to think about it.

The horns he found he didn’t mind so much, so long as the idiot didn’t insist upon groping them like he was currently doing.  After the shock of the first rutting season had worn off, he’d learnt to cope with their outrageous sensitivity fairly well; so long as he worked the velvet away quickly from each year’s new growth and kept them neatly polished until they shed, they were manageable.  Besides which, they were useful for ramming things – especially the idiot now prancing in a circle around him.  He lurched to the side and caught said idiot with a spike to the side of his fuzzy blond butt.

“Ow!  Kuro-pan is such a brute!”

“Knock that off!” Kurogane grumbled, getting to his feet, “And quit flitting around and trying to lose me.  We have a job to do, in case you’ve forgotten.”

Fay was the bane of Kurogane’s existence.  The reason he’d been cursed with this abhorrent faun’s body.  The reason he’d been exiled these long six years; away from his home amongst the forest sprites, away from his coveted position as second in command of the royal guard, away from all of the respect he used to command…

“I haven’t forgotten, Kuro-nub!” Fay called back over his shoulder as he darted ahead.

And now he was stuck working with the idiot for the slim possibility that witch of a Fairy Queen might make good on her word and transform the two of them back if they succeeded in her little “mission.”  Not that Fay really seemed all that interested in being a fairy again.  Being a faun seemed to suit him;  he’d worked out the finer points of walking on these blasted hooves within the first fortnight and frequently made a show of zipping and dodging and weaving whenever he was certain Kurogane was having difficulties on uneven terrain, _his_ fur never seemed to have a strand out of place, and he certainly had no issues with over-sensitive horns (if anything, Kurogane had decided they must be well-dulled after the amount of time and effort Fay expended stroking them each day – likely as part of an plot to ensure Kurogane’s blushing, and gaping, and swearing faculties were kept in good working order).  Yes, that terrible, fateful day when half the forest had gone up in flames by his own hands seemed to be nothing more than another joke to that idiot.

He wondered why Fay had even agreed to this deal.

They made it to the edge of the forest without too much difficulty; their more immediate concern was how to best steal through the massive garden that separated them from the palace at the forest’s edge without being noticed.  In theory, this should not pose much of a problem; humans tended to ignore forest spirits for the most part, and Kurogane was more than averagely acquainted with the security and inner-workings of the castle (or had been, once upon a time).  In practice, however…

“Hey, Kuro-pon!  Look at this!”

“Get off of that!” Kurogane hissed, swiping at his companion’s hooves as the other danced around an intricate fountain carved in the image of a cherub.

“But it’s peeing!”

“It’s not peeing; it’s just a fountain!  Now get down before someone sees you!”

“Why would they make it looking like it’s peeing?” Fay wrinkled his nose, splashing at the spilling water, “Humans really are a strange lot, aren’t they?”

“I suppose,” Kurogane grumbled, shading his eyes as he searched the garden for any signs they’d been spotted.  It really didn’t help that Fay’s blond fur stood out like a flame in the darkness against the deep greens of the garden.

“They really don’t make them very anatomically correct,” Fay continued, completely ignoring Kurogane, “I know for a fact that cherubs have _much_ bigger-”

“I said get _down_!” Kurogane whipped around to glare at the other faun, “And why would you even _know_ something like that?”

“Well, you know, sometimes we all get lonely…” Fay grinned, “Oh!  Look at that one!  I didn’t know humans could bend that way!  I wonder if this one is as disproportioned as the other one – I feel bad for all those women if that’s the case…”

“It’s just a fountain!” Kurogane insisted.

“It looks like an orgy to me…”

Kurogane spun on his hoof and started toward the palace.  This had all been so much easier when he’d had wings – glorious, beautiful wings that fluttered in the breeze and sparkled in the sun – and could just float up to the entrance at the top of the east tower without having to worry about being spotted by an overly curious human or worse…

“Well, hello there, Kurogane.”

 _Damn it._   He turned around slowly, his leg hair prickling even more than usual.  “Hello, Bols.”

“And what brings you to our neck of the woods, today,” the fairy smirked, raking his eyes across Kurogane in a manner that was somewhat less than friendly and definitely more than a little lewd, “And looking like _this_ , no less?”

“Orders,” Kurogane grunted, puffing his chest out to its full breadth and glaring with all his might, “Her Highness wants a full report of today’s audience with the queen.”  This wasn’t entirely true, but it was all the detail he was willing to volunteer at the moment, and it should suffice to get them through whatever security circus Bols was running these days.

Bols lifted an amused eyebrow.  “Papers?”

“Of course.”  Kurogane produced an official-looking document from the satchel strapped to his waist and handed it over.

The other fairy scanned the paper, eyes lighting up and a smirk creeping across his face as he read.  He grinned imperiously as he handed the decree back to Kurogane.  “I have to say, I’m surprised you’re back working for Her Majesty.  Or rather, I’m intrigued as to why she would _allow_ you…dirty hooves and all.”

Kurogane crossed his feet self-consciously.  He didn’t particularly care about the mud and grass wedged between the cloves of his hooves, but that didn’t mean he wanted them inspected.  And especially not by Bols.  “Are we done here?” he demanded gruffly.

“Yes, yes,” Bols waved toward the palace, “Though usually we have a ‘No shirt, No shoes, No service’ rule, I suppose we have no choice but to make an exception for you and…” he paused to nod at something off in the distance, “I assume that is yours?”

Kurogane had to crane his neck around to find what Bols was nodding toward and was completely unsurprised to find Fay doubled over, sniffing at a rose blossom and whistling to himself.  He sighed.  “Yeah, he’s with me.”

“Living the highlife in exile, are we?”

“Get bent, Bols.”

“I’m only joking, of course,” Bols chuckled as Kurogane stormed past, “Kazuhiko says to thank you, by the way.”

Kurogane froze in his tracks.

“He’s been thoroughly enjoying his new post.  Or, I suppose it’s really his _old_ post now, after six years.”

Kurogane sighed and ground his teeth.  “Oi!  Idiot!” he snapped, motioning to Fay, “We’re going!”

“Murder on his finger nails, though.  Poor boy…”

 _That_ was more than Kurogane needed to know, and he forced down a shudder as he walked away.  Fay trotted after him, quickly closing the gap that had formed during Kurogane’s interrogation and eyeing the palace with a look of wonder.

“Friend of yours from the old days?” Fay asked, skipping ahead.

“Tche.  No.  He’s the head of security here,” Kurogane grunted, hoping Fay would drop the topic.

“But weren’t you…?”

“ _Yes_.  But we weren’t friends.  He’s insane.”

“Why does Her Majesty keep him on if he’s insane?” Fay stared down the long hallway they had entered.  It seemed to stretch on forever in each direction and he wondered vaguely how they were meant to find the queen’s audience chambers.

“What else is he going to do?” Kurogane huffed, grabbing Fay’s arm to lead him down a side passage, away from any prying eyes.  “He’s obsessive about whatever he’s working on, so this really isn’t a bad place for him,” he opened a short, decidedly drab door and hurried through, “Besides, it’s only security for the human palace.  It’s not like they even know he’s here.”

“But I thought you said-”

“Shut up.  And get over here.”  Kurogane had led them to an ornate entrance and the end of a fantastically decorated hallway and was tip-toeing toward the heavy oak doors, head darting from side to side to ensure they weren’t spotted.  He motioned for Fay to hurry up as he cracked the doors open and slid inside.

“ _Wa-aa-aa_.  This place is amazing!”

Kurogane spluttered and pulled Fay behind a long velvet curtain.  “What the hell was that?!”

“What?”  Fay looked confused.

“Tha-that noise you just made!  That _wa-aa-aa_.”  He clapped his hands over his mouth as a disturbingly similar sound eked past his own lips.

Fay snickered.  “You know I can’t whistle, Kuro- _wa-aa-aa_.”

“You sound like a damned goat!”

Fay clicked his hooves against the marble floor and tried very hard not to laugh.  “I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be sorry, be _quiet_!” Kurogane shouted.  All he had to do was get through this without completely blowing their cover or horribly murdering his ill-weather companion…

 _There_.  From this vantage point he had a clear view of the throne and if he concentrated hard enough, he could just make out what was being said.

The queen looked amused, which in Kurogane’s experience was always a bad thing.  To her left sat her betrothed, looking equally amused as she reclined toward Her Majesty.  Before the throne stood one of the more motley casts of characters Kurogane had witnessed at a royal audience during all his years of service.  The tall, dark man and the attendants at his side were the only two dressed in a fashion Kurogane recognized; the brightly colored silks of the younger man and his entourage further back were completely foreign to him.  The girl huddled at the tall man’s feet just looked a mess.

“Lord Touya, is the thought of your sister marrying this boy really so incendiary that you must ask me to forbid the union?” the queen spoke levelly, the slight twinkle in her eyes the only betrayal of her amusement.

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“And why is it that you yourself are not able to command this yourself?  You are the ruler of the western provinces, after all.  Surely you’re able to demand a bit of discipline in your own home.”

“I…” Lord Touya faltered, glancing at his sister, “I promised her I would consult Your Highness.  Though I find him to be an insufferable little brat, she loves him.  I would allow it but for the disappearances of a number of the br-Master Li’s family members in the past years.  Both of his siblings have disappeared without ransom; their whereabouts are still unknown, even after a large portion of Clow’s security forces were dispatched on their behalf.  This is a curse; surely I have a right to consider her safety in this matter.”

The queen frowned.  “Truly a _doting_ brother.  And yet, your worries are well-founded.  The disappearance of the Li children is well-known, even throughout this kingdom,” she added, looking sternly at the Li ensemble before continuing, “And you, Lady Sakura, wish for me to rule the reverse, that you might be able to wed Master Li despite your brother’s protests and with full knowledge of the Li family’s misfortunes?”

“Y-yes, Your Majesty.”

“A headstrong girl,” the Queen murmured, “And no doubt love-sick and ridiculous,” she paused, turning her attention back to the girl’s brother, “Lord Touya, you are doubtless aware that there are pressing national issues at stake with your request; this is not simply arbitrating a family squabble.”

Lord Touya nodded, grimacing at the floor.

“Forbidden this union between two of our nations’ most prominent families would be a severe insult to the Kingdom of Clow, and that must be taken into careful consideration.”  The queen paused, searching the faces of those gathered before her before continuing, “My ruling is this: Lord Touya, I will grant your request that the Lady Sakura be forbidden to marry the Master Li.”

Lord Touya nodded, a small smile forming on his face even as his sister gasped.

“However,” the Queen continued sharply, “The continuation of peaceful relations with the kingdom of Clow are of the utmost importance.  A compromise must be made.  You, Lord Touya, will wed Lady Nakuru of the Akizuki house.”

The smile disappeared from Lord Touya’s face.  “Your Majesty, surely…”

“I am fully aware of your previous engagement,” the queen continued hastily, “However, in presiding over nations and squabbling siblings alike, equivalency must be maintained.  You wish to interrupt your sister’s marriage arrangements and for this, you seek my counsel – admittedly because you dote on her and do not wish your relationship to be further soured.  For me to make this decree interferes with our international relations.  Your marriage to Lady Nakuru presents a practical solution to both problems; our relations with Clow are maintained and your own love is sacrificed in demonstration of your devotion to your sister.  Do you not find this arrangement fair?”

“I…”

“Surely her well-being is what is most important to you,” the queen smiled, “After all, you said this was true not five minutes ago.  Or perhaps you are prone to perjury, Lord Touya?”

Lord Touya grimaced and bowed.  “I am not, Your Majesty.  I will accept your ruling, whatever it may be.”

“Very well, then,” the queen’s face softened as she gripped the hand of her betrothed, “As you are well aware, my own nuptials are fast approaching, which has put me in a very generous state of mind.  Consider this not a decree, but an offer.  I invite both parties to be our guests for the next three weeks, so that you might have time to reconsider your request.  If, by the date of the wedding, your wishes have not changed, the stated ruling will take effect.  Do you accept?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” relief poured across Lord Touya’s face, despite his solemn tone.

“And you, Master Li?”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“Very well,” the queen gestured to an attendant, “See that they are properly accommodated.  Lady Sakura, my sister will be your companion during your stay with us.”

“T-thank you, Your Majesty.”  Lady Sakura curtsied and made her way from the audience chamber with the rest of her company.

Kurogane shuffled back behind the curtain.  That had gone about as he had expected; Queen Kendappa was still as shrewd as ever, though he balked at her generosity even as he appreciated the time it bought him.  That Souma woman was clearly making her soft.  He quickly pushed this thought away, however, and turned back to Fay to regroup.

The idiot was sprawled out across a windowsill… _sleeping_!  “ _Oi_!” Kurogane grunted, smacking the blond head, “Wake up!  You didn’t hear a damned thing that just went on, did you?”

“Oh, I heard things, Kuro-buck,” Fay yawned and rubbed his eyes, “It was just so warm in the sun that I decided to close my eyes, and, well…”

“ _Tche_.  Moron,” Kurogane peeked quickly around the curtain once more, “We have three weeks to sort this mess out, so just try not to…”  He trailed off as a familiar face entered the audience chamber.

 _Princess Tomoyo._   At least, he was almost certain it was Princess Tomoyo – she had been barely twelve years old when he had seen her last.  Now, if he was not mistaken, she had grown into an impressively beautiful young woman, though her eyes retained all the kindness of her youth.  He felt his heart drop into his stomach as she turned to face him.

 _Shit_.  He ducked behind the curtain, clutching tightly at the fabric.  Had she seen him?  She _couldn’t_ see him, not now, not like this.  He shook with shame at the prospect of his former master seeing this hideous form and grit his teeth.  _He would not fail._

“Kuro-faun?” Fay asked quietly, eyebrows lifting ever-so-slightly.

Kurogane sighed and stomped toward the exit, still concealed by the flowing drapery.  “Come on, you idiot, let’s get out of here.  We need to figure out what comes next.”

~*~*~

“Have you ever seen our gardens before, Sakura?”

“Well, no…” the sullen girl replied as she trailed several paces behind her hostess, “We’ve only ever been here on official business…” she trailed off, knowing full well that most “official business” visits to the palace began and ended with Tomoyo planning, plotting, and dressing her in some ridiculous gown (though she had to admit, Tomoyo’s creations had become much more flattering over the years as the princess’s skills had grown; the last gown she had sewn Sakura into had only involved a _bit_ of ruffle and had properly concealed her ankles such that even Touya couldn’t protest _too_ loudly).

“Sakura,” Tomoyo turned suddenly and grasped the girl’s hands, “Please don’t worry too much.  My sister may appear heartless on the surface, but she always knows what she’s doing.  She’s not a cruel ruler – that’s one thing I am certain of.”

Sakura remained silent for a moment, staring at the ground.  Though she had long considered Tomoyo to be a trusted friend, her sister was still a mystery even after years of acquaintance.  “It doesn’t matter if she is,” she said at last, “Now my brother has gone and involved himself and Yukito in this mess and I…” she bit back a sob, “Yukito has been a member of our family – in all but name, anyway – since they were children!  It’s all my fault…”

“Sakura,” Tomoyo said lightly, “You always assume the worst!  Your brother has three weeks to make a decision,” she grinned knowingly, “And he hasn’t even met his proposed ‘fiancée’ yet.  Things will happen for the best, and we’ll do our best to encourage him.  Right?

“Yes, of course,” Sakura answered, a bit absently, “Everything will be alright, surely.”

Tomoyo paused, worry creeping across her features.  She followed Sakura’s gaze toward the forest surrounding the palace.  “Sakura,” she said slowly, “Promise me you won’t do anything rash.”

Sakura flushed and looked away quickly.  “Of course I won’t!”

“No?” Tomoyo let go of Sakura’s hands and turned away, a cat-like grin spreading across her face, “In that case…” she beamed.

Sakura winced slightly (noticeable to only the most astute of observers, really, and Tomoyo was currently floating down a river of bliss with no eye to the shore) and stepped backward.  “Yes…?” she managed, tentatively.

“In that case, you must come with me to my studio!” Tomoyo exclaimed, taking hold of one of Sakura’s wrists and leading the dumbstruck girl along a garden pathway.  “I have the loveliest pink satin that would accent the rose in your cheeks, and some lace I’ve been saving for a rainy day, oh!  And the whale boned corset my auntie sent last year for my birthday!  It’s ever so slightly too small for me, but I’m sure it will look wonderful on you-”

“ _H-hoe?!_ C-corset?” Sakura managed to choke out as she avoiding stumbling along the path she was pulled, “I don’t think-”

“It will fit perfectly with the design I have in mind!” Tomoyo continued, “And there’s some taffeta squirreled away here somewhere as well, and tulle!  Oh, the _tulle_!”

Sakura’s eyes grew several sizes wider as she was dragged back toward the castle.

~*~*~

Lord Touya was generally not a sullen man.  Stern, stubborn, brusque; these were all far more fitting descriptions of the young ruler of Tomoeda Province – _generally_.  On this particular afternoon, however, one meeting the lord for the first time might have been inclined to describe his demeanor as “sulking.”  This would have been incorrect, however, and likely earn the perpetrator of said description an indignant sneer and immediate dismissal from his chambers.  Several of his advisors had taken this tack, in fact, and their indiscretion (or impetuousness, depending on who was judging) was the primary reason why he now sat alone, apart from one other, clearly _not_ -sulking in the confines of the room prepared for him.

The view out the window only grew more fascinating the longer he stared.

“Lord Touya.”  The voice from his side was quiet, yet insistent.

“Mmm.”  Touya allowed his head to pivot slowly against the knuckles it rested on, turning toward the speaker while still maintaining an air of dignified petulance. 

“Don’t you think this has gone far enough?”

“Mmm.”  Touya was not fond of the calm that seemed to be radiating from his companion.  It was, of course, expected that his senior advisor maintain appropriate decorum at all times, but for heaven’s sake they were alone in this god-awful room staring down a decision that held consequences for both their futures – couldn’t he at least show some sign of apprehension, anxiety, _anything_?

“Lord Touya…”  Apparently _not_ , then; the gold eyes of his advisor held the same tranquility they always did.  Touya was almost certain he should be annoyed by this, but was having difficulty convincing himself to act accordingly.  He sighed instead.

“Yuki…I…stop with the title,” he mumbled, rather than finish his thought.

“Touya,” Yukito addressed him, more firmly than before, “This isn’t solving anything.  You have time to make your decision.  Why don’t you work on something, rather than just staring blankly at the wall?”

“It’s not the wall,” Touya muttered, “That tree out there has a very interesting shape to its leaves.”

“To-ya!”  This at least earned him an amused chuckle, Touya noted with more than a little relief, and twisted around in his arm chair to look at his advisor.

“How are you so calm about this?” Touya wondered aloud, only partly hoping for a response, “This isn’t just me, you know.  It’s…it’s… _us_.”

“Of course it’s _us_ ,” Yukito draped an arm across the back of Touya’s chair and followed Touya’s gaze out the window, “That’s why I don’t worry.”

Touya craned his neck around for a better look, eyebrows lifting into vague questions.  “You don’t worry?”

“No, of course I don’t,” Yukito replied simply.

“Why?”

“Because it’s you, and you’ll make the correct choice in the end.”

“And which choice is that?” Touya demanded, almost but-not-quite-insulted that he should be deemed so predictable.

“Ah,” Yukito smiled, “My duties as your advisor only pertain to governance, Lord Touya.  My advice here would only be that of a jealous lover – inherently inappropriate to matters of national security.”

Touya huffed out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.  No, of course he couldn’t ask Yukito for advice in this matter; regardless of the fact that Touya rarely heeded advice from any of this other legions of “advisors.”  It wasn’t fair, and moreover… “Jealous lover?” Touya smirked, “I like the sound of that.”

“Which is why I don’t worry,” Yukito repeated, a thoughtful smile at his lips, “ _Too much_.”

Touya sighed and leaned his cheek into Yukito’s palm, still resting comfortably across the back of the arm chair.  It appeared, for better or for worse, that the brat had won.  Or was about to win.  Or might possibly win in the not-so-distant future.  There was no reason he had to _announce_ his decision straight away.  No…it would almost certainly be more fun to let the brat sweat for a few days.  _Perhaps a few weeks…_

Sakura would almost certainly forgive him.  And he supposed he could overcome, in time, the baser instincts that insisted he tear that little horror limb from limb every time he found him within shouting distance of his sister.  His eye twitched at the thought.  _Probably, anyway._

“It’s good to see you smiling again, To-ya,” Yukito said quietly.

“Hmm?” Touya lifted his head to find Yukito staring at him with a grin of his own, “What’s that for?”

“If you’ve finished sulking,” Yukito explained, a mischievous gleam in his eye, “And you’re not _quite_ set on your decision, Queen Kendappa has requested that you take some time to get to know the fiancée she’s picked for you.”

Touya gulped.  It wasn’t like Yuki to grin so maniacally…

~*~*~

Kurogane settled onto his barstool with a huff.  His hooves were killing him after the long trek back through the forest to their preferred watering hole.  He signaled the bartender – a blue-haired dryad with a mischievous smile and well-renown sharp tongue – as Fay settled in next to him; they’d spent enough hours holding up this end of the bar for her to know their order by heart – a dark ale for himself, something ungodly pink and fruity for Fay (preferably with a paper umbrella, which would undoubtedly end up decorating their mantelpiece along with the countless other pebbles, trinkets and random bits of garbage the idiot insisted made their hovel “homey” at the end of the night).  She waved back and set about filling their glasses.

“Uwah,” Fay whined, picking a twig from between the cloves of his hoof, “Kuro-buck wouldn’t even stop for a rest!  He’s such a slave driver…”  He collapsed against the bar in mock exhaustion.

“You wouldn’t be worth the cost of maintenance as a slave,” Kurogane grunted as his ale arrived in front of him.  “Thanks, Umi,” he managed, even as he cast a disapproving glare around the tavern; it held the same collection of miscreant forest spirits that populated its darkened hallways every night – drunken fairies, fauns, even a centaur had managed to cram its bulky back-end in through the doorway this evening (and hell if Kurogane was going to help the inebriated idiot stagger back out once he’d finished depleting the wine stores – he’d learned his lesson months ago and still had the horse-shoe shaped scar to prove it).  He sighed and gulped his ale; he fit in rather too well here these days.

“ _Saa_ …Kuro-pan shouldn’t say such hurtful things!” Fay continued to chatter, completely ignoring Kurogane’s despairing glances about the room, “I’ll have you know I could fetch quite a handsome price on the black market.  It’s not often that you find a faun with my coloring, or with my charming personality.”

“If someone’s paying me to take you away, I’ll more than happily oblige them,” Kurogane banged his empty glass onto the bar top, “But for right now, I need you to finish this assignment.  We need to figure out what the hell we’re going to do now.”

“Hmm,” Fay mused, swirling what Kurogane assumed had to be some sort of berry jam into his drink, “We just need to make sure the boy and girl end up together, correct?”

“Yes.”

“And why was that, again?”

“God damn it, I don’t know!” Kurogane bellowed, making several other patrons wince, “That witch likes to involve herself in everyone else’s business in this realm, why not go dabbling into human affairs as well?”

“It was just a question, Kuro-tan,” Fay chuckled, “Now, why can’t they get married?”

Kurogane stared incredulously.  “You didn’t pay attention to a damned thing that went on today, did you?”

“Of course I paid attention!” Fay exclaimed, “How could I not pay attention to big, manly Kuro-clop as he defeated the dastardly rock piles set in his path, threatening to twist his delicate ankles and overthrow his mighty- _nghk_!” Fay snorted and descended quickly into a fit of giggles at the sight of Kurogane’s face twisting into something that resembled a rabid goat.  “It’s the brother, right?” he managed a moment later, struggling to gain composure.

“Yes,” Kurogane continued to glare.

“Okay, so we kill the brother.  The kids get married and everyone lives happily ever after.  …Except for the dead brother.  Done deal.”

“Wha- You- _Gah_!” Kurogane spluttered, hands balling into exasperated fists, “Will you stop acting like a moron and be serious?”

“I was being serious, Kuro-rin,” Fay insisted, “Death is the surest way to be rid of someone forever.”

“We don’t need to be rid of him forever!  We just need to get him out of the way, or change his mind, or something – _anything_ that doesn’t include killing him!”

“How do you know he’ll choose to separate them?”

“What?”

“Well,” Fay studied his glass carefully, “The queen _did_ give him a choice, after all.  How do you know he’ll choose to break off his own engagement just to keep his sister away from that boy?”

“So you _were_ doing something other than sleeping,” Kurogane huffed.

“Of course I was, Kuro-chi,” Fay sang, still staring deeply into his cup, “I _told_ you I was.  But you haven’t answered me.  Why do you think the brother will make that choice?”

“I just-” Kurogane paused, choosing his words carefully, “I can tell his type.”

“His type?”

Kurogane sighed and waved for another ale.  “Overbearing; over-protective.  Not going to let his sister fall into the hands of the first little punk that comes along and steals her heart.”

“ _Saa_ …Kuro-brute’s sisters must have had a hard time finding dates.”

“What?  I don’t have any sisters!  What are you implying?”

“Oh, nothing, nothing at all,” Fay assured him, “It’s probably for the best, anyway.  I imagine Yuuko would turn you into something far worse than a faun if you massacred every poor suitor that came along looking to woo your siblings…”

“ _Woo my_ \- Goddamn it!  Stop with these tangents!  We can’t count on the brother – we need something else!”

“Well,” Fay said thoughtfully (which frightened Kurogane more than he would _ever_ admit), “If we could guarantee that he wouldn’t want to break off his current engagement, then that would solve our problem, wouldn’t it?”

“We can’t count on him!  _I just said_ -”

“I think Kuro-gruff underestimates the power of lo-ove,” Fay trilled, slurping down the last of his fruity concoction and signaling for another.

“You can’t guarantee love!” Kurogane blurted, nearing the end of his tether, “You can’t even guarantee attraction!”

Fay grinned wickedly.  “Of course you can,” he lifted his empty glass, “I can guarantee that Kuro-pan is now 50% more attractive than he was when we first sat down here.  All it took was a little alcohol.”

“Great,” Kurogane growled, resting his face against his palms, “We’ll just get them smashed and everything will be hunky dory.  _Brilliant_.”

“It doesn’t have to be liquor,” Fay continued, still looking thoughtful (which _still_ frightened Kurogane), “There are plenty of _other_ potions that handily remove all sense of reason…”

Kurogane peered through his fingers, the interfering digits dragging down large bags under his eyes.  “Really?”  He didn’t want to get his hopes up…

“Really,” Fay grinned again.

“Can you make them?” Kurogane asked, almost fearfully.  He really, _really_ didn’t want to get his hopes up…

“Well, no…”

Kurogane’s head crashed back down into his palms.  _Of course not._  That Witch Queen had taken the core of Fay’s magic just like she had taken everything else.

“But it’s not like there aren’t other, natural sources for things like that.”

“… _Natural_ sources,” Kurogane stared skeptically.

“Yes,” Fay sipped carefully at his new drink, “I know of at least one flower growing in the forest that will reduce even the most indifferent troglodyte to a jibbering, love-sick fool.”

“And it works?”

“Of course it works, Kuro-pon,” Fay chuckles, “I wouldn’t tell you about it if it didn’t.”

Kurogane (with a great deal of effort) bit back the urge to detail the exact number, plots, and dates of stories the idiot had woven over the years – _just to get a rise out of him_ – and took a measured swig of ale.  “Okay,” he said after a long moment, “We’ll try it.”

“ _What_?” Fay almost fell off his barstool as he whipped carelessly around to stare at Kurogane, “ _Really_?”

“It’s not like we have any better ideas!” Kurogane huffed angrily, clearly implying that this was not _his_ fault, “We’ll find the damn thing tomorrow and try it out.  If it doesn’t work…”  If it didn’t work, they’d just end up back here anyway.  It would only be one day lost. _Hopefully_.

Fay continued to watch him in stunned silence.  Kurogane hoped desperately that this was not an ill portent.


	2. Chapter 2

_I know a bank where the wild thyme blows,_   
_Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows,_   
_Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine,_   
_With sweet musk-roses and with eglantine._   


_-A Midsummer Night's Dream, II;i_

 

Shizuka Doumeki latched the gate to his temple with the barest of hesitation and hung a sign advising his parishioners of his absence for the following month.  He didn’t enjoy the thought of leaving his temple, much less his home unattended for such a long period, but the royal summons had arrived the previous afternoon and he certainly wasn’t one to refuse the request of his queen.

Still, he wondered at why she had selected a backwater priest such as himself to officiate her wedding ceremony.  Certainly he wasn’t anything special – on the best of days he barely managed to keep the roof over his head from leaking and the meager garden from shriveling in the summer heat.  A much greater share of spiritual power had belonged to his grandfather, who was still well renowned throughout the country years after his death.  Shizuka…well, he had never considered himself much beyond a caretaker to the family business.  Which was fine – he wasn’t really one to seek public acclaim anyway.

He gave his saddle bags a final glance over and pat down before latching them to his mule and setting off down the road.  It was three days travel to the palace if all went well, which was never guaranteed.  His path would take him directly through the forest Cephiro, which, if the local tales and legends were to be believed (and while he had never been fond of putting too much stock in drunkards’ tales, he was also acutely aware that more existed in this world than what his consciousness alone perceived) was home to strange spirits who were fond of playing pranks on travelers and diverting them from their course.

Thankfully, he had packed enough food to last a fortnight.

~*~*~

"Idiot!" Kurogane seethed, “Would you get back over here?  You’re going to fall in the damned lake!”  This was the final straw – he couldn’t endure anymore.  It had been a small wonder Fay had gaped in wonderment at him just the night before – while there _may_ have existed some magical flower who’s nectar could reduce any living being to slobbering, lust-filled fool, it was clear that his own slobbering, stupor-filled fool had no idea what it looked like or where to even begin looking for it, despite his protestations (and they were loud and many) to the contrary.

“ _Uwah_ , Kuro-tiodactyl!  I think it’s this one – just give me a hand here!”  Fay was perched precariously on top of a mostly-submerged rock, reaching, _reaching_ for an ornate purple flower hanging from the farthest reaches of a branch over-hanging the water.

“Kuro-tio _what_?!” Kurogane groaned, stomping toward the water’s edge.

“-Dactyl – it means ‘split hoof’” Fay explained absently, all his attention focused at the bloom just beyond his fingertips, “Hold onto my tail, will you?  I think if I just stretch a little more this way-”

Kurogane watched the fuzzy little nub of Fay’s tail swish back and forth with disgust.  His lips pulled back into a deep frown as he grasped the end, just tightly enough to keep the idiot from barreling ass-over-tea-kettle into the water.  “Hurry up, will you?” he barked, “We’ve been at this for most of the day.”

“Patience is a virtue,” Fay trilled as he leaned further forward.

Kurogane watched in horror as the first of Fay’s hooves slipped down the slope of the rock and into the water.  For a split second, he considered yanking back on the tail in his hands, then thought better of it and let go.  Fay landed with a spectacular splash and _crack_ of the water and glared back at the shore angrily.

“That was a _horrible_ thing to do, Kuro-chan.”

“ _I_ didn’t do anything,” Kurogane ground out with a smirk, but offered the other a hand back to shore anyway.  Fay narrowed his eyes and glared for a second, but took the offered hand without other comment.

Once on the shore, he proceeded to shake himself dry – one leg at a time – splattering his unprepared and cursing companion with enough water to soak him through as well as a dip in the lake would have.  Kurogane considered cursing.  He also considered mauling, torture, and outright murder, but in the end only turned silently away from Fay and shook himself dry, trying desperately to tame the wild leg hair that was now sticking up at odd angles and silently promising to itch in strange places for the rest of the day.

Fay watched with barest hint of a frown pulling at his mouth.  He’d expected a better reaction than the silence he was receiving, and worried he might have overstepped some imaginary boundary with the gruff ex-fairy.  He stepped closer and moved to help sort out the fantastic mess that Kurogane was currently presenting and was quickly batted away for his efforts.  “I’m sorry, Kuro-tan; I was just trying to help.”

“I need your help like I need a hold in my head,” Kurogane grunted, slicking down as much hair as he could with repeated strokes, “And _don’t_ get any ideas.”

Fay watched him in silence for a few moments before daring to speak again.  “I got it.”

Kurogane snapped to attention.  “You did?  I mean – _good_ ,” he wandered over to get a closer look at the blossom in Fay’s hand, “You’re sure it’s this one?”

“Well…”

“Well…?”

“I’m not entirely sure…” Fay admitted, staring dubiously at the flower, “I mean, it looks _sort of_ like it should…”

“Sort of?!  You said you were sure!” Kurogane roared.

“Well, it was a lot further away at that point,” Fay eyed the petals closely, turning the bloom over in his hands, “I’m not so certain now,” he looked up suddenly, “There is one way we can find out.”

Kurogane ground his teeth.  “ _How?_ ”

“Hold still,” Fay instructed, and before he had a chance to react, Fay had mashed one of the purple petals gracelessly across Kurogane’s face.

Kurogane blinked.

Fay stared expectantly.  “Well?”

“Well _what_?”

“How do I look, Kuro-puu?”

“Like an idiot.  What did you do?”

“ _Awww_ …” Fay frowned and sighed melodramatically, “I guess it’s not the right one…”

“How do you-  What did you-  _You bastard!_ ” Kurogane shouted, lunging toward the blonde.

Fay sprang quickly out of his way, spry hooves carrying him deftly back toward the forest they had come from, cackling as he went.  “Calm down, Kuro-horny!  The worst that could happen is you would fall madly in love with me!”

 _That_ , Kurogane decided as he hurried to catch up, _was possibly the only fate worse than what he suffered now…_

~*~*~

“S-Sakura?”  The boy’s voice was quavering slightly, clearly conveying his surprise.

“ _Hoe?!_ ”  Sakrua quickly leapt behind the nearest hallway pillar and poked her head back out, “Syaoran!  I…I…Tomoyo was-”

“You look…beautiful,” he managed, holding out his hand for her.

Sakura accepted the gesture and stepped out from the nook she had wedged herself into.  “I feel ridiculous,” she murmured, eyeing up the flowing gown she’d been dressed in.

Tomoyo had made good on her promises of designing and fashioning the most extravagant dress she was able (with the “tragically limited” supply of fabrics stored in the palace, of course – there would be more and better to come later), and Sakura (to her everlasting credit and great personal embarrassment) was a patient and indulgent model who allowed Tomoyo to plan and trim to her heart’s delight.  Only a scant few hours of sleep had been shared between the girls the previous night, sacrificed instead to the arduous tasks of outfitting Sakura and appeasing Tomoyo’s incredibly specific notions of where lace and bead ought to overlap (minimally), how many layers of petticoats were required to provide the right amount of flourish when she spun (three), and how high the bust needed to lift (only two inches, though Sakura was very certain she would bump her nose if she leaned too far forward).  Their efforts had been largely successful in terms of the gown itself, but while Sakura was no stranger to fancy dress, she certainly was not accustomed to the long, trailing skirts nor the heavy petticoats that rustled beneath with every step she took.  They made the simple task of walking more onerous than usual, and she flushed furiously as she advanced toward Syaoran with tiny, delicate steps.

Syaoran was too immediately preoccupied with the gown’s bodice to pay much attention to this, however, and turned beet red as he realized he’d been staring(rather obviously) at something other than the intricate beadwork winding its way up his lady’s abdomen.

“I- _uh_ …” he stammered, quickly looking away, “Are you ready?”

“Yes…” Sakura trailed off, searching the hallway desperately for any signs they were being watched, “I don’t know how well I can make it through the forest in this…” she pulled at the skirts, “But everyone is occupied meeting Brother’s new fiancée…we should leave now.”

Syaoran nodded and lead her down the long corridor.  He was confident that he would be able to navigate their way through the forest to the neighboring town of Outo, where he had hired a coach to take them along the final leg of their journey back to Clow.  He had other misgivings, however.  “You’re absolutely certain you want to do this?” he asked nervously.  They had talked, planned for countless hours to make their escape, but the thought of Sakura leaving her family and country still weighed heavily on his heart. 

“Yes,” she said, resolution welling up into her eyes, “This is the only way everyone can…” she trailed off, seemingly lost in thought for a moment “Let’s go.”

“Alright, then,” Syaoran nodded and waved to the guards at the gate, looking for all the world as if they were headed out for a simple stroll around the palace gardens.

~*~*~

Touya quietly closed the door to his rooms and quickly locked the latch behind him.  He tossed his over cloak onto the bed and sank into the mattress, thumbs kneading at his temples.

He had to hand it to Queen Kendappa; she was no less shrewd than popular lore credited her as, nor did she betray any outward signs of empathy for her subjects once her decrees had been made.  She had watched the intricate cat and mouse game play out before her very eyes and had offered nothing more than a thin smile of amusement to ease the tensions.

Touya sighed heavily and rubbed at a bruise on his forearm.  It was no longer a mystery why the queen had ordered him to marry this Lady Akizuki – there was certainly no person in this kingdom of stout enough heart to attempt it of their own free will.  He rubbed at his neck, still sore from where she had draped herself like some sort of living piece of jewelry and refused to let go even after she had been (accidentally) swept into a door frame as the party attempted to navigate between rooms.  He hoped there would be no scars where her fingernails had dragged once he’d finally managed to loose her hold on him somewhat…

 _“Lord Tooou-yaaa!”_

He shuddered and shuffled further back onto the mattress as the shrill voice rang through the hallway.  Somehow, he decided, the brat was going to pay for this humiliation…

 _“I’m going to eat you all up when I find you!”_

Yes, the brat was definitely going to pay.

Touya jumped up with a start as he heard a key click in the lock and cursed himself for not barricading the door while he’d had the chance.  He steadied a hand against the sword at his hip and fell into a crouch.  There was no harm in being prepared.

“To-ya!” Yukito’s soft laughter rang across the room as he quietly shuffled through the doorway and locked it once again behind him.  “What in the world are you doing?”

Touya stretched back to a standing position, hand dropping back to his side and eyes flitting nervously about the room.  “I was thinking,” he said simply.

“About what?” Yukito chuckled, taking a few steps closer.

“About how I’m going to wait until the last possible minute to give that brat what he wants, just to make him suffer like I have suffered.”

“What a horrible thing to say,” Yukito chided, “After all, it was you who threw Lady Akizuki into a fit of hysterics when you disappeared.  She’s been terribly distraught – practically tearing apart the palace trying to find you.”

“ _Yuki_ …” Touya nearly growled, “You’re smirking.”

“I most certainly am not.”

“You are!” Touya was indignant, “You’re enjoying this!”

“Never, my Lord,” Yukito bowed low, “I _would_ suggest, however, that you come back downstairs, as the entire guard is now looking for you.”

“Maybe I will marry her after all,” Touya grumbled, grabbing his cloak back from the mattress, “Would serve the lot of you right.”

“That is, of course, your decision to make,” Yukito said softly, releasing the latch on the door, “Though I have to say I think you’re still missing the point behind all of this.”

“There’s a point?” Touya scoffed as he stalked from the room, “Beyond humiliating me in front of the royal court for the crime of wanting to protect my sister?”

“To-ya…”

“Lord Touya!”

Both men turned their attention to the guards hurrying toward them.  Touya sighed; whatever Yukito wanted to say would have to wait until he’d dealt with these men.  “What is it?”

“Your sister, my Lord,” of the men panted as they stumbled to a halt, “She left the palace earlier this afternoon with Master Li-”

Touya felt his brow twitch, guessing at what was coming next.

“And neither of them have been seen since.”

 _Damn it._   “What kind of idiots do you have guarding your gates that they could just wander off without being seen?”

“They were heading toward the gardens, my Lord.  It is possible that they scaled a wall and managed to leave the palace grounds, but that would place them at the borders of Cephiro forest, and…”

“And?” Touya demanded, squaring his shoulders.  He didn’t put it past his monster of a little sister to scale a wall at _all_ ; what he wanted to know what was what was being done to bring her _back_.  “ _Your_ _men_?” he prompted sharply.

“Our men are searching, my Lord, but if they’ve gone into the forest, it could be days before they’re found.”

 _Damn it._   “Come on, Yukito,” Touya decided firmly, “We’re going to look for them.  We’ll bring them back before the sun sets.”

“But, my Lord…”

 _“We’ll find them,”_ Touya repeated, gritting his teeth as he strode down the corridor.  Yukito hastened his steps to keep pace.

~*~*~

Kurogane batted vines away from his face as he wound deeper and deeper back into the forest, grumbling noisily to himself about the amount of time they’d wasted already.  Noon had long since passed and the forest grew ever darker as the sun sank toward the western horizon.  From somewhere behind him, he could just make out the sound of hooves against the poorly kept path, clip-clopping ever closer, and punctuated every-so-often by an obnoxious giggle.

“Come on, Kuro-sama!  One of these has to be it!”

Kurogane spun to face his pursuer.  “No!” he spat, crossing his arms across his chest, “We’re not doing this; I was a fool for even thinking it might work to begin with.  We’re going home to figure out a different plan.”  And by “we” Kurogane really meant “I” – Fay would be lucky if he allowed him through the front door of their hovel after the abuse Kurogane had suffered at his hands today.

“But Kuro-sama…” Fay pouted through an enormous armful of flowers, “I spent all afternoon picking these!  Do you have any idea how hard it is to coordinate a bouquet this big?”

Kurogane growled and squinted down the path.  They still had a long way to travel before they were home for the night, he noted with a bit of despair.  His stomach was growling – lunch had been skipped in a thoroughly misguided effort to speed up their doomed search – and his mouth was dry.  He hoped there was a stream somewhere nearby.

Fay kept pace with him as he started back down the path, warbling on about the various shades and shapes of the flowers he had gathered and being a general nuisance until Kurogane came to a halt at the edge of a small clearing.  “ _Wa-aa-aa_ ,” he breathed, coming to a rest next to the darker faun, “What a gorgeous spring.”

“I _told_ you to stop braying like that,” Kurogane grumbled, stomping off into the clearing.  Gorgeous or not, the spring was a welcome sight and he hurried toward it, eager to sate the thirst he’d been fighting all afternoon.

“ _Wa-aa-aa_ , Kuro-nub is so cruel,” Fay whined as he chased after him, refusing to abandon his gigantic bouquet.  He set it down carefully at the water’s edge and crouched to dip his hand, not about to let himself go thirsty either.  They drank in silence for several minutes, both thankful for the distraction.

Kurogane’s ear twitched.  “Did you hear that?” he asked a moment later, straining to listen.

“Hmm?’ Fay looked up at him with surprise, having been caught completely off guard with his cupped hands halfway to his mouth.  “I didn’t hear anything.”

“I could have sworn I just heard…ahh _shit_ ,” Kurogane cursed as the source of the commotion stumbled into view, or rather… _what the hell was it doing?_   Dancing?  It didn’t matter, it was human – Kurogane was certain of this as it drew near enough for him to catch a clear whiff of its scent – and there, fluttering above it…

“What the hell is she doing out here?” Kurogane grumbled, joining Fay at his perch at the water’s edge and staring as the duo approached.  “And with a human, no less.”  He dropped to one knee in a proper show of obeisance to his queen.  _What the hell was going on?_

“Maybe it’s a lover?” Fay mused, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

“Oh for-” Kurogane practically choked, “Why would she take a human for a lover?  It doesn’t even look like it’s fully grown yet…”

“You never know,” Fay’s voice dropped as the queen drew closer still, waving as she spotted them, “Love is unpredictable.  Maybe she’s into that sort of thing.”

“Will you _shut up_?” Kurogane hissed, bowing lower still, “If you don’t watch it, she could tack on something even more outrageous to our sentences.”  Kurogane shuddered at the though and kept his eyes trained on the ground.

“Well, well.  If it isn’t my two _favorite_ subjects,” the queen laughed gaily as she set down on the ground before them.  “Oh, stand up; you’re making a spectacle of yourselves.”

They did as they were bid, Kurogane meeting the queen’s gaze with a terse “Your Highness” while Fay chuckled and ran a hand through his hair.

“Fancy meeting you all the way out here, your highness!” Fay exclaimed, all pretence of formality dropped within mere seconds.

“I might say the same of you,” the queen regarded him with a smile and folded her wings gently back, “This is such a long way to travel on foot…or hooves, as it were.”

Kurogane scowled as she grinned and opened his mouth to form a retort, but was cut off as Fay gestured toward the earth-bound creature following (and flailing) in her wake.  “Speaking of foot travel,” he said brightly, “Who is that, Your Highness?”

“Ah,” the queen smiled as she observed the bizarre creature wind its way toward them, “That is Watanuki.”

“What’s a Watanuki?” Kurogane wondered as it finally caught up to its master.

“It’s not a ‘what,’ Kurogane,” the queen answered, eyeing Kurogane with what might have been amusement, “It’s a ‘him.’  _He_ is my newest acquisition.”  She grinned toothily and Kurogane felt the hair of his legs stand straight on end.

“Yuuko!” _he_ shouted as _he_ huffed and doubled over at the queen’s feet.  Kurogane flinched at the casual use of the queen’s name; maybe it – _he_ – was a lover, after all.  The thought was unappealing and Kurogane pushed it to the back of his mind as a new stream of cursing and flailing came from the human.  Kurogane watched in fascination; he had _never_ seen movements quite like _this_ before.

“Such _energy_!” the queen laughed, “And after I’ve taken him for such a nice, long walk as well!”

“A walk?!” Watanuki shrieked, “You’ve been dragging me around all day looking for a specific beehive to pilfer honey from!  A beehive that probably doesn’t even exist!  I knew I shouldn’t have let you at the sake before breakfast!  We’ve been wandering since early morning – I’ll bet you don’t even know where we are!”

The queen looked put-out.  If Kurogane hadn’t been terrified of the prospect of being turned into an even fouler creature, he might have been tempted to remark that she was putting on a terrific pout.  His silent assessment was only further affirmed when she opened her mouth to whine, “But I want honey for my cakes!  No other will do!”  She turned back to Kurogane and Fay to whisper loudly, “Such a troublesome child – he doesn’t even know when he’s been given proper exercise.”

“I can hear you, you know!” Watanuki bellowed, “And I am not a dog that needs walking!”

“Watanuki!” the queen exclaimed sharply, putting a momentary end to the human’s flailing as he paused to gape at her, “Break out the good sake – we’ll have a picnic.”

“You _just_ drank not fifteen minutes ago!”

“Yes, but not the _good_ sake.  I want the _good_ sake while I talk with my subjects!”

“Oh, for the love of…” Watanuki grumbled, but stooped to dig through the backpack he was carrying, “We only have one glass,” he said, passing the sake off to the queen with an annoyed glare.

“That’s fine,” the queen waved this away, “They don’t mind, do you boys?”

“Not at all!” Fay exclaimed, taking a seat in the grass before Kurogane could voice his opposition.  The queen smiled and passed him a bottle, which he promptly tore the cork from with his teeth, much to Kurogane’s chagrin.  “Your Highness is far too kind.”

Kurogane joined the others in the grass, sighing deeply as he sat, and watched in morbid fascination as the queen emptied more than half of her bottle into the cup her pet-servant-toy- _thing_ had carried so carefully all day and drained the vessel in one sip. He knew damned well that she was going to want a full report on their progress – a report that he was more than a little embarrassed to deliver as things had progressed so miserably thus far.  Fay, on the other hand, seemed to have no qualms about detailing their failed exploits and gestured wildly to the pile of useless flowers he’d collected over the course of the day.  Kurogane covered his eyes with his palm; this was going to end badly.

“That’s quite clever,” the queen said after Fay had finished regaling her.  Kurogane felt his jaw drop.  “You know, Kurogane,” she continued, “When I gave you this assignment, I thought for certain that you would be the one doing all the planning.  You are the one with military experience, after all,” she eyed him reproachfully, “But I’m delighted that Mr. Fluorite here has developed such an excellent strategy.  True love is, after all, the most powerful motivator.”

“Hah!” Watanuki chirped from behind them, then lowered his voice to a dull murmur, “ _Like she would know_.”

“Don’t mind him,” the queen declared imperiously, “He’s just upset that he has can’t get a date.”

“You don’t stop working me for long enough to get a date!” Watanuki squawked, “I asked; I _begged_!  And now Himawari will…” he doubled over into the grass, muttering something about his “darling falling into the arms of a cretin.”

“Ah, _children_ ,” the queen sighed with a smile, “The course of true love never did run smooth…”

“What’s _that_ supposed to mean?” Kurogane grunted, rather disgusted by the whole display.

“It means, Kurogane,” she continued, turning back with a serious expression, “That this flower strategy guarantees a measure of success that you would otherwise not be granted.  What is the next stage of your plan?”

“Have to figure out which flower it bloody is first,” Kurogane grumbled.

“You mean you don’t know?”

“Ah,” Fay chuckled, scratching at his horns, “My botany knowledge seems to be a bit… _rusty_.  Not much use for it these days, you know?”

“No, I imagine not,” the queen frowned t the discarded bouquet, “In that case, might I suggest an alternative?”

“Ugh,” Kurogane sank back into the grass, “What’s _that_ little piece of information going to cost us?”

“Nothing at all,” the queen smiled again, “Well, almost nothing – _Watanuki_!” the boy snapped to attention, “Gather up the rest of those flowers.  We’re bringing them back with us.”

“What? Why?”

“I want you to make wine from them!” the queen exclaimed, clasping her hands together.

“Of _course_ …” Watanuki groaned as he packed the blooms into his knapsack.

“Don’t whine!” the queen commanded, “We’ll head back after this, even without the honey.”

“Okay, _okay_ …”

“And now for you two,” the queen turned her attention back to the fauns seated opposite her.  Fay smiled brightly.  Kurogane tensed in fear.  “As an alternative to hunting down this flower – which is such an old and overused plot device – I will offer you use of one of my pets.  Mokona!” she called sweetly, “Won’t you come out and meet some new friends?”

Kurogane watched in horror as two balls of fluff – one black, the other white – jumped out of the knapsack and landed in the queen’s lap.

“What the…?” Watanuki sputtered angrily, “I thought I left the two of you to clean the hall!”

“Mokona is not a servant!” the white one chirped.

“Yeah!  That’s Watanuki’s job!” the black one agreed.

“ _Why you little-_ ”

“Don’t _yell_ , Watanuki,” the queen chided, “It’s very unbecoming.  Now,” she turned back to the two fauns seated opposite her, “The white Mokona here will help you.”

“What does it do?” Kurogane asked suspiciously.

The queen grinned.  “One kiss from Mokona will make any human fall in love with the next person they see.”

Kurogane balked, eyes flitting back to the human accompanying the queen, and forced down the impetuous nature that insisted he demand to know exactly _why_ she had something like that.  She was the queen, after all, and perfectly entitled to whatever stupid magical creatures she wanted to keep.  “What about the black one?” he asked instead.

“Oh, the black one is just for entertainment,” she assured him, “You shouldn’t need his services at all…”

“Entertainment?” Kurogane choked, “What kind of entertainment?”

“Oh, songs, dances, peep shows…” the Queen grinned, “It’s really no concern of yours.”

Kurogane sighed.  “And this isn’t going to cost us something extravagant?” he repeated.  He watched as the white ball of fluff bounded into Fay’s arms and nuzzled against his chest.

“Love doesn’t cost a thing, Kurogane,” the queen smirked.  “Now,” she continued before he was able to retort, “As we discussed before, if you should succeed, your sentences will come to an early end and you’ll be welcomed back into the Fairy Kingdom,” Kurogane twitched with excitement, “But _ONLY_ if you succeed,” the queen finished, looking at them sternly, “Fail me, and…” she let loose with what could only be described as a _cackle_.

Kurogane cringed at the sound of it.  “We _won’t_ fail,” he said, more with more confidence than he actually felt. 

“Of course not,” the queen grinned again, rising to her feet as the black Mokona bounced back into the knapsack, “I’ll leave you to it, then.  Good luck!”  With a flourish of brightly colored wings she had taken to the air once again, bellowing for Watanuki to keep up even as he scrambled wildly behind her.

Kurogane plucked the ball of fluff from Fay’s shoulders by its obnoxiously long ears and stared.  This was it?  This little white bastard was the key to his salvation?  He frowned.  Now what they really needed to do was…was…

“Oi, puff ball,” Kurogane grunted.  “How exactly are you supposed to go about kissing this human?”

Mokona blinked and wriggled in his grip.  “ _Please_ usually works.”

Kurogane unceremoniously dropped Mokona to the ground. 

“Kuro-gruff…” Fay murmured reproachfully, “You don’t have to be so mean to her!”  He picked the indignant Mokona up from the ground and set her on his shoulder.  “We’ll just have to catch him while he’s sleeping.  We can sneak back into the palace tomorrow.”

“And you’re actually prepared to do that?”

“ _Yes_ , Kuro-steed,” Fay returned patiently, “Now, I’m sleepy and hungry.  Can we go get some food and go home?”

“I suppose…” Kurogane agreed.  It was only getting darker as they dawdled in the clearing and there was little opportunity to make use of their newfound trump card tonight – especially as he had no idea how they were going to guarantee the first person that Lord saw upon waking wasn’t a servant or a relative.  It was going to require more planning; he’d probably have to lug himself all the way back to the humans’ palace and work something out with that bastard Bols, and then there would be sneaking, and ducking, and all manner of obnoxious espionage that Kurogane really wasn’t suited to, and _good gods above_ he was getting a headache just thinking about it.  “Come on,” he mumbled, beginning the long march back to their hovel.

Fay was on his feet seconds later, prancing circles around Kurogane as the other trudged toward the edge of the clearing.  “Hurray!” he shouted, hunger and fatigue seemingly forgotten, “Last one to the pub buys the first round!”

“Mokona wants a drink, too!”

Kurogane could only stare wearily as the blonde skipped back into the forest.

~*~*~

“Syaoran, please slow down!” Sakura begged as the young man pulled – just a bit too harshly – at her hand, urging her more quickly along their path.  Her earlier fears about her state of dress were proving (most unfortunately) to be well-founded; the skirts snagged on bushes and low-hanging branches, the heels of her shoes sank quickly into the soft ground, and the corset cinching her waist made it all but impossible to take the deep breaths necessary to supply the grueling pace Syaoran had set for their travel.

Syaoran grimaced and looked toward the sky.  The sun was setting quickly – in another hour or two it would be completely dark, and they would have naught but the sparse view of the stars the canopy afforded them to guide them.  On top of that, he was fairly certain they should have reached the border of the forest well before now, but it seemed that no matter how closely he followed the map and calculations he had spent hours preparing, their journey only ever lead deeper into the darkness of the woods. 

“I’m sorry, Sakura,” he said, slowing his steps and squeezing her hand, “I’m just afraid we’re not going to make it out of the forest by nightfall.  I’d hate for you to have to sleep outside, and I don’t know how long the cab I hired will wait.”

“It’s okay,” she soothed, “Just please, walk a little slower – I can barely keAAUP!”

“Sakura!” Syaoran cried, moving swiftly to catch the girl as she stumbled.  He was not swift _enough_ , however, and Sakura toppled to the ground at his feet, a mess of pink satin tangled with the underbrush.  He knelt slowly to take her hands again and frowned.  “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Sakura assured him, accepting his assistance back to her feet and brushing away the stray twigs and dirt that clung to her, “Maybe we should stop here for the night,” she murmured, looking nervously around them, “If we build a fire, it should be safe.”

“But, Sakura, the cab…”

“Let’s not worry about it for now,” she answered quietly, moving slowly off to the side of the path. 

Syaoran could see, even in the low light that she was favoring her right ankle and sighed in resignation.  “You’re right,” he said, bracing her arm as she stepped carefully over a fallen log, “Stay here, I’ll gather some wood to make a fire.”

Sakura obliged him, settling down amongst the leaves gathered at her feet.  She shifted restlessly, finding it quite a task to get comfortable beneath the layers and layers of fabric enveloping her.  She wondered vaguely if that was what Princess Tomoyo had had in mind when she designed it – no matter how carefully Sakura had guarded their plans, she couldn’t help but feel that the other girl had known their intentions, even before she had spoken.  She sighed; there was nothing for it – some of the skirts were going to have to go.  They couldn’t afford the hindrance any longer, she decided as Syaoran vanished completely from sight, and set about tearing away the petticoats that weighed her down.  They tore easily enough – Tomoyo had _insisted_ on tulle for the outer layers (the better for flouncing) and the deepest was only a very thin chiffon – and Sakura smiled happily at the nest she was able to make of them spread across the cold ground.  She pulled her knees against her chest and waited.

She hoped Touya would be alright.  And Yukito as well – her brother’s fiancée (Or was it former fiancée, now?  The mere possibility broke her heart…) had been almost a member of their family since she was small; she couldn’t bear the thought of the two separated.  Really, this _was_ best, wasn’t it?  Or was this just her mind rationalizing her utterly, stupidly selfish actions?  It had all seemed so much more convincing before they had set out into these woods…

“Here,” Syaoran’s voice sounded from behind her, and his hand reached over her shoulder to press an apple into her hands, “I couldn’t find much food, but you should eat this.”  He set an armload of dry brush and branches to her side and crouched to arrange them into a suitable pile for burning.  He worked quickly, and in several minutes had constructed a small, but comfortable fire.

He turned back to Sakura, now lit by the dull roar of the flames…and quickly turned away.  That was…  Surely she hadn’t…  _Oh god!_   He could feel every ounce of blood in his body pouring into his cheeks and bit his lip to keep from spluttering.

“What’s wrong, Syaoran?” Sakura asked worriedly, “Are you okay?”

“I…I…” he stuttered, still staring intently into the forest, up a tree, down the path they had traveled – anywhere but back at her, “It’s… _your_ …!”

“What?” Sakura knelt forward to clutch his arm, “Syaoran!” she shook him brazenly, “Look at me!”

“I…can’t!” he clapped his hands over his eyes.  Why – _oh why_ – was this happening to him?  “My lady, your…!”

Sakura sank back, smoothing what was left of her dress out around her.  “Syaoran,” she said, very patiently, “You’re frightening me.  Come lie down, and let’s get some sleep.”

Syaoran peeked through his fingers and over his shoulder, feeling an enormous sense of relief wash over him as he looked.  He slunk back toward Sakura, settling back with his face toward the fire, intent on keep watch through the night.  “You sleep,” he instructed softly, “I’ll keep watch for awhile.”

“O..kay…” Sakura stammered, confused by the abrupt change in her companion’s demeanor.  She lay back amongst her tangle of skirts and closed her eyes, trying to shut out the noise of the forest, and drifted peacefully off to sleep.

Syaoran exhaled deeply and massaged his face with one hand, the other tugging at Sakura’s discarded skirts to pull them more snugly around her.

He supposed he was really going to have to get used to seeing her ankles exposed, or this entire marriage would be a bust…

~*~*~

Lord Touya darted behind a tree, quickly pulling his advisor with him and clapping a hand over the other’s mouth.  They had been wandering the forest fruitlessly for what seemed like hours, completely unable to find any trace of his sister or her soon-to-be-worm-meat companion.  Still, it seemed that no matter how far they traveled, how twisted their path, or how far off the beaten trail they roamed, something still pursued _their_ footsteps closely.

“Lord Toooouya~!” it called through the darkness, “Come now, it’s well past supper time and your lady is hungry for something other than food!”

Touya shuddered, then glared as he felt Yukito snort against his palm.  _“It’s not funny!”_ he hissed through clenched teeth and pressed his hand tighter as the single snort devolved into a fit of (mercifully) silent giggles.

“To-ya,” Yukito coughed moments later as Touya released him, confident for the moment that their pursuer had passed them by, “It’s _very_ funny.”

Touya shirked away irritably.  “I’m going to _kill_ that kid,” he growled, smacking a fist against a tree.

“Don’t say such horrible things,” Yukito chided, “Sakura would be devastated to hear you say that.”

“And it’s not devastating to me to have her run off like this?”

“I don’t think she would have run off if you had just told her the truth from the beginning.”

“The truth?” Touya demanded, “What truth would that be?”

“To-ya,” Yukito said, mustering an infinite amount of patience, “You didn’t expect anyone to actually believe that you were going to take the Queen up on her bargain, did you?  I don’t think Her Highness even considered it seriously.”

Touya looked defiant.  “Of course she considered it.  Why would the Queen do something so frivolous?”

Yukito shrugged, but smiled.  “She said it herself – it was an exchange.  You asked her to settle a domestic dispute, so in return, she asked you to settle a national policy matter.  _Quid pro quo_.  It was only fair…”

Touya sighed, knowing full well what Yukito told him was true and not feeling the least bit inclined to argue.  “We have to find them,” he repeated instead.

“Yes,” Yukito agreed, “I think I smell smoke coming from that direction,” he paused to point, “Let’s head that way; maybe they’ve set up a camp.”

Touya nodded, but remained silent as he followed Yukito along the dark path.  The scent of smoke grew stronger as they wound through the never-ending maze of trees, and soon the dull glow of dying embers revealed a small clearing occupied by two sleeping figures. 

Touya sighed with relief even as he stomped irritably at the remains of the fire.  “Idiot didn’t even put it out before he fell asleep…”

“They’re probably exhausted,” Yukito murmured from his side, gently tucking Sakura more snugly into her makeshift blankets, “We should let them rest for awhile.  We can all go back together in the morning.”

“Hmm…” Touya frowned.  He didn’t like the idea of waiting any longer than absolutely necessary, but was acutely aware that they had strayed quite far from their original path and were unlikely to find their way back to it in the dead of night.  “Fine,” he agreed at last, “But come the first sign of light…”

“We’ll head back,” Yukito finished for him, tugging at Touya’s arm to lead him away from the sleeping couple, “We should keep watch from over here,” he explained, “That way if they wake up during the night they won’t spot us and run off again.”

Touya opened his mouth to argue that he had no intention of allowing his sister more than two feet away from his side ever again, _thankyouverymuch_ , but closed it just as quickly and settled down, crossing his arms across his chest and leaning back against a tree.  Yukito joined him a few seconds later and together they fought off the encroaching drowsiness brought on by a long day of wandering and kept watch into the night.

~*~*~

Shizuka Doumeki was, in a word, _lost_.  He had come to terms with this some hours earlier, but had not yet worked out how he had become so.  He knew where he was (Cephiro Forest), he knew where he ought to be (somewhere else in Cephiro Forest), he knew how he had arrived here (by following the map), but was at an utter loss as to why none of the landmarks – so painstakingly plotted out on his map – seemed to fall where they were supposed to and even _more_ confused at how walking a straight path due north had managed to bring him full circle back to this clearing not once, but three times.  He stared at his compass and shoved it deep into his pocket.  It wasn’t like it was doing its job, anyway.

He tied his mule to a tree and fumbled through his bags for a loaf of bread before settling down next to the beast.  It was dark enough now that there seemed little point in continuing on, especially as the forest was proving more formidable than he had planned.  There was nothing for it; he could set out again once dawn had broken.  For now, he would have to content himself to sleep on the forest floor and enjoy the little peace the quiet night afforded him.  The cool night air was soothing, and soon after he had settled down, the wayward priest drifted off to sleep. 

He did not wake to the excited shouts of one who had found a long-lost lover, nor the cries of despair as they realized that the dark-haired man dozing beneath the tree was not their intended.  He slept through the wailing, the petulant grumbling, the cackling in anticipation of payback, and – most impressively – the bright lights that subsumed him as fey spells danced about the clearing, thrashing and thwacking and _sparkling_ before enveloping him completely.


	3. Chapter 3

_Ay me!  For aught that I could ever read,_   
_Could ever hear by tale of history,_   
_The course of true love never did run smooth…_

 _-A Midsummer Night's Dream I;ie_

 

Kurogane had never suffered from allergies.  Even the annual hay-fever which seemed to plague the rest of the fairy village had always given him a miss.  So it was with no small bit of consternation that he now passed off the damnable white ball of fuzz (which had insisted upon riding his shoulder like a rodeo clown) to his air-headed companion in order to spare his watering eyes and stinging nostrils that suddenly seemed full beyond what their size should allow.

“Aww…Kuro-nub is allergic to love!”

He had also ordered the idiot to maintain a ten-pace following distance, but that part seemed to have bypassed Fay’s consciousness entirely.

“I told you to stay – _ACHOO_ – stay the hell away from me with that thing!” Kurogane glared and rubbed furiously at his nose.

“Mokona is hypo-allergenic!” she announced, wriggling desperately in Fay’s grasp to get back to her previous perch.

“I _said_ -”

“But Kuro-buck, it’s getting dark and I don’t want to get separated!”

“What; you can’t find your way home now?”

“It’s _you_ I’m worried about,” Fay replied, “All these allergies seem to have gone to your head!  I wouldn’t trust you to find the sugar plums on a succubus in this state!”

“ _The what on a what?!_ ”

“Oh sorry, not your bag?” Fay snickered, “The ice-pop on an incubus, then?”

“Oh, just _shu_ -” Kurogane trailed off as an explosion of surprisingly colorful lights erupted over the tree tops.  “What the hell was that?” he demanded as the spectacle faded away.

“ _Waa-aa-aa_ ,” Fay breathed, “Looks like someone’s having a bit of fun.”

Kurogane lifted an eyebrow.  “Fairy magic?”

“Mmm…” Fay screwed up his face, “Though I didn’t expect to see _that_ spell again.  Doesn’t it seem familiar, Kuro-pan?”

Kurogane glared.  “No.  Magic was _your_ thing.  What spell was it?”  Certainly not the one the moron had used to destroy half the forest (they didn’t seem to be in imminent danger of bursting into flame, at any rate), but that didn’t mean Kurogane didn’t feel a sharp pang of anxiety over the gleam in Fay’s eyes…

Fay only grinned.  “I’m going to see what happened,” he called over his shoulder as he headed away toward the source of the commotion, “You coming?”

“No!” Kurogane stamped at the ground, “And neither are you!  Get back here!”

“I’ll be back in a few minutes, Kuro-tan!  I’ll meet you at home if you’d like!”

“Mokona is coming too!”

Kurogane snarled, “What happened to sugar plums and ice-pops?”

“Don’t go licking either without me!” was all the reply Kurogane received as Fay disappeared into the darkness.

It took a full five minutes and three gawking passers-by for Kurogane to realize that he was standing in the middle of public pathway, scowling at nothing in particular.  He cast a death glare at the last of the travelers and shuffled toward home.

The tavern on the lower floor of their rooms was busy tonight, he noted with a hint of distain.  If he had a choice, he would have liked nothing better than to collapse into his bed and sleep straight through till morning; however, the sheer amount of noise drifting up through the floor boards was all but guaranteed to quash any attempt at slumber.  He eyed the back-stairs longingly, but opted to head through the tavern entrance in the end.

Inside was just as noisy as the lights and clatter from outside had suggested, and Kurogane waded through the sea of revelers with a huff and took a seat at the bar.  As per usual, Umi had his drink poured and ready before he had ordered and winked as she slid it the short distance down the bar to land at his fingertips.  She followed the glass a few moments later, a sly smile on her face.

“No boyfriend tonight?” she asked casually, leaning on her elbow and grinning from ear to ear.

“No _what?!_ ” Kurogane’s glass clattered against the counter, “Dammit, Umi – I’m not in the mood for your jokes tonight.”

“Oh come now, Kurogane,” she said, swiftly mopping up the small puddle of ale that had sloshed over the rim of Kurogane’s abused cup, “The two of you and your constant love-squabbles have made a bigger splash in the local gossip than Hikaru and her husbands.”

Kurogane wrinkled his nose at this and glanced suspiciously over at the trio in question.  They were snuggled together in the far corner, staring into the fireplace, sharing out a steaming mug of _something_ , and generally radiating a particularly obnoxious variety of cute.  He snorted, “If _that’s_ the worst the gossip mill has to say about me, then it would seem I’m moving up in the world.”

Umi winked.  “Not that you pay attention,” she teased, snatching his glass, “Same?”

“Uh, sure,” he hadn’t realized he had drained the glass already, “Actually, give me something stronger.”  With a little luck a nightcap would be just the thing to drown out the clamor and push him over the brink into sleep.  With a little more luck, he could be asleep before Fay returned to keep him awake with inane babble for the rest of the night.  “Three fingers of scotch should do nicely.”

~*~*~

It was the frenzied braying of a mule, rather than any remnants of the rather spectacular pyrotechnic magic exhibition that drew Fay toward the clearing.  He seemed bound for disappointment tonight; whomever it was that had cast the spell had long since vanished, the spooked beast was the only indication anyone had been there at all.  He quickly untied the mule and sent it on its way; there seemed no evidence of its owner lurking anywhere nearby either – only a centaur (who had apparently managed to sleep through the entirety of the blitz and now continued to snore loudly at the edge of the clearing), and the thought of one equine hybrid keeping another tethered captive seemed laughable at best.

Fay watched the mule run off and felt a sharp pang of disappointment.  There were very few things he missed about his life as a fairy, but magic definitely topped that list.  _And that spell…_

“Fay?” Mokona asked quietly.

Fay shook his head.  “Let’s head home, shall we?”

 _Oh well._   It wasn’t as if he couldn’t ask one of the more experienced mages about it later – assuming he and Kurogane somehow _succeeded_ in this little misadventure.  It was all such a _bother_ , really, but…well, he _owed_ Kurogane.  They had been little more than drinking buddies before they had been cursed and even now, after six years, Fay still knew shockingly little about Kurogane’s past (to be fair, Kurogane also knew shockingly little about Fay’s own – Kurogane had early on declared loudly and pointedly that he didn’t give two flicks of a dragon’s tail about who Fay had been or what he had done before they met, and Fay had taken this as all the provocation he required to remain mute on the issue).  From what he had gathered, however (six years may have been a short spell as far as immortals were concerned, but it was certainly more than enough time to pick up and piece together snatches of information the other probably hadn’t _quite_ meant to give away), Kurogane had cared deeply about the human princess he had guarded and wished nothing more than to return to his post.  And, well, Fay was all too familiar with the pain separation wrought.  He could take care of this mess for Kurogane’s sake and figure out his own issues later.  Immortality did tend to afford one plenty of time for naval-gazing…

He headed back the way he had come, not terribly enthused at the prospect of retiring for the night.  He wondered if Kurogane had already turned in, or if he’d be up for a round or two downstairs and maybe a game of rummy – it had been a good while since Fay had given the surly faun a decent thrashing and if all went well, the time to repeat that might be running short.  He frowned.  And sniffed; there was the faint but unmistakable smell of smoke on the air.

“Do you smell that?” he mumbled.

Mokona sniffed as well.  “It’s a fire,” she said, “But who would start a fire in the forest?”

Fay stiffened.  That _was_ the question; who in their right mind would start a fire this deep into the woods?  It was strictly forbidden (he was more than averagely aware of this), and furthermore, completely unnecessary – there was a plethora of magical items available to even the least magically inclined forest creatures that rendered an old-fashioned campfire completely redundant.  He grumbled a bit to himself as he headed toward the smell, then paused and chuckled; apparently living with Kurogane was having more of an effect on him than he’d thought.

He found the source of the smoke not too far off the path he traveled and paused.  _Humans_.  Four of them, if his sense of smell was correct, though two of them were currently out of his line of sight.  The two he could see were huddled around the smoldering remains of the campfire – a boy and girl, though it was difficult to tell in such low light, and humans were prone to funny choice in dress on the best of days.  The girl was unmistakably the same one he had seen yesterday in the humans’ court; he was less certain about the boy, but…

 _Ah_.  That was most certainly the older brother, asleep behind a nearby tree.  Spying?  _Possibly_ , Fay conceded, though he was doing a piss poor job of it if that were the case, snoring and splayed out in every direction as he was.  There was another man with him; surely this had to be the fiancé – Fay recognized the odd shade of silver-brown hair and was almost positive Queen Kendappa had ordered the young lord to wed a woman.  Fay snickered – for a man so emphatically protecting his sister’s chastity, he certainly didn’t have any qualms about displaying his _own_ affections in public.  Perhaps _not_ spying on his sister, then; maybe the lot of them had made a poorly planned break for freedom.

Whatever the case, it was no longer obvious to Fay whether he needed Mokona’s abilities.  If the lord was here with his original fiancé, well…that pretty much absolved himself and Kurogane of any need to interfere, didn’t it?  On the other hand, if he let this opportunity slip by, he wasn’t sure when or how they were going to get another shot at it.  A cunning strategist though Kurogane undoubtedly was, Fay had no idea how he planned to ensure the silver-haired fiancé would be the first person the lord saw upon waking; he had little to no idea of normal human sleeping arrangements but, if their garden fountains were any indication, he imagined there would be many humans sprawled out and entwined in each bed.

“This is them,” Fay whispered, pointing at the sleeping duo.

Mokona’s eyes widened and sparkled.  “I can kiss them?” she barely managed to whisper though her excitement.

“Just the dark-haired on-” Fay started, but fell silent as Mokona planted a wet smack on the silver-haired man’s lips.  “Okay, both of them…”

Mokona practically squealed with excitement as she moved on to the lord and repeated the gesture.

“Mokona!” Fay hissed as he watched, “Don’t use so much tongue!  You have no idea where these humans have been!”

Mokona sulked.  “But Mokona never gets to kiss anybody!  Yuuko made me promise after the incident with the guards!  It’s no fun at all!”

“The guards…?” Fay wondered, then tucked the question away for later, “I just don’t want you to get sick.  Her Majesty will-  _Hey_!  Where are you going?”  He lurched forward to catch the ball of fluff as she bounded away into the darkness.

“I’m going to kiss _them_ too!”

“ _Them?_ ” Fay finally caught up as Mokona leapt onto the face of the younger sleeping man, lips puckered in anticipation.  “No, Mokona, they really don’t need it.  They’re already in love…”

“Then there’s no harm!” Mokona squealed with delight before her lips closed with a loud thwack against the man’s.

Fay bit his lip, but then decided there really wasn’t any harm in her kissing the kids as well.  If anything, it was a little bit of added insurance for their endeavor.  He smiled as Mokona bounded back up to his shoulder and scratched her ears affectionately.  “Better now?”

“Yes!” Mokona exclaimed, “Mokona loves kisses!”

“That’s good,” Fay eyed the sleeping group, “What do we do now?”

“Nothing!” Mokona assured them, “They just have to wake up!”

“Should we wake them up now?”

Mokona considered this.  “Well…” she said slowly, “We could, but it’s more potent it you let it sit for awhile.”

“What’s more potent?”

Mokona grinned.

“Alright,” Fay said after a long moment of debating whether he wanted a more detailed answer and deciding that _no, he really did not_ , “Let’s head back then.  I don’t suppose there’s much danger of anyone disturbing them.  Forest spirits usually stay well away from humans.”

“Humans are scary!” Mokona agreed, “But good kissers…”

Fay chuckled quietly as he maneuvered through the brush and back to their home.

There was still a substantial amount of noise pouring out of the tavern when he arrived and, after a quick trip upstairs to check Kurogane had not gone to sleep already, Fay headed in to find his grumpy companion.

It took a few moments searching and the help of Umi to locate Kurogane – sleeping soundly, reclined against the far wall of the tavern.  Fay stared for a moment, unsure whether to be amused or worried.  “Is he… _drunk_?”  he asked at last.

“ _Him?_ ” Umi laughed, “I highly doubt it.  The way you two normally drain our barrels…  No, I think he’s just asleep.  Seems kind of stressed, if you ask me.”

As she spoke, Kurogane’s eyes opened to fix on Fay.  “I’m not asleep, I’m just resting my eyes.  Where the hell have you two been?” he growled, “It’s been almost an hour!”

“Aww, was Kuro-pan worried?” Fay teased as he pulled up the next seat and deposited Mokona on the bar. “We got a little sidetracked,” he explained as Umi brought his drink.

“I’ll say you did,” Kurogane grunted, “Did you find out what that was?”

“No…” Fay toyed with his paper umbrella, “But we found something better.  We were heading back here and I smelled a fire-”

“You _better_ not have burned anything else, you-”

“ _Relax_ , Kuro-puu,” Fay hushed him, “The fire was out by the time we got there.  But we did happen upon a camping quartet of _very_ familiar humans.”

“ _Very_ familiar?”

“ _Very_ ,” Fay nodded seriously, “You know how they all sort of look the same…well, _these_ ones-”

“Cut the crap – it was that lord?”

“Ah, and his fiancé, his sister, and her intended.”

“ _Together_?” Kurogane spluttered, “There’s no way!”

“I thought it was a bit odd myself,” Fay admitted, “But in the end, it proved to be too good of a coincidence to pass by, so…”

“Mokona kissed them!” she announced.

“Oh thank god,” Kurogane breathed, “I was afraid you were going to say you did something stupid.”

“No, no,” Fay waved this away, “They all got a good dose of…Mokona, so once they wake up tomorrow morning-”

“In the morning?” Kurogane coughed, “You mean you didn’t wake them up right then?”

Fay looked taken aback.  “Well…no.  Apparently it gets more potent if it sits for awhile and, well, it’s not like anything is likely to bother humans in this forest and they were so wrapped up in each other that it seemed silly.”

“What gets more potent?” Kurogane demanded.

Mokona grinned.

Kurogane sighed and buried his face in his palm.  “I hope you two know what you’re doing.”

Fay laughed and swallowed the rest of his drink, “Oh come on now, Kuro-buck!  When have I ever not known what I’m doing?”

Kurogane did not dignify this with a response.

~*~*~

Watanuki kicked petulantly at the tall blades of grass he wandered through, his eyes narrowed toward the sky where Yuuko fluttered cheerfully above him.  “Couldn’t we have picked an easier path?  This stuff is a nightmare to wade through!”

“Nonsense, Watanuki!” Yuuko exclaimed, “Humans need their daily exercise!  Otherwise you all grow old before your time and shrivel away to nothing!  And then the gout sets in and your legs go lame and _then_ who is going to cook my meals?  Really, you must learn to think beyond your own selfish needs.”

Watanuki choked back several choice retorts regarding “selfish needs,” but continued plodding through the field.  Every morning was the same; at the first sign of daylight he would find himself shuffled out into the great wide yonder on one of Yuuko’s grand wilderness adventures.  She continued to uphold the pretense of “surveying her kingdom,” but Watanuki had long ago begun to suspect that this was little more than an excuse for her to flaunt her wingspan (as if he weren’t treated to that at every _other_ opportunity imaginable) while she searched for new and interesting things to make wine from.  At the very least, that was what these morning “surveys” tended to devolve into and, while Watanuki had been forced to admit that the dandelion wine had been particularly good, the memory of the toadstool brew still hung fresh in his memory (which was more than slighly ironic, as it had been too foul to ever be considered “fresh” in the first place) and made the entire exercise that much more painful.

So consumed was he in his lamentations that he only registered the red haired fairy lounging in the grass seconds before he tripped over her.

“ _Ow_ …” she pouted as he rubbed her head.  “What kind of idiot… _Yuuko_!” she exclaimed as she caught sight of the queen floating overhead, “Fancy meeting you here this morning.”

Yuuko grinned as she set down in the grass.  “I might say the same for yourself.  All goes well, I take it?”

“Of course, of course,” the red haired fairy brushed herself off and leaned over Watanuki, still sprawled out in the grass below her, “Say, Yuuko – this is a _fine_ specimen you’ve got here,” she tugged at his hair, “Just like you to keep the finest pets!”

“I am not a pet!” Watanuki squeaked as the fairy continued her inspection, pulling at his eyelids and peeking in his ears, “Dammit – _STOP THAT_!”

“Not a pet?”

“No,” Yuuko smiled fondly, “I found poor Watanuki wandering the woods a few years back; all of his memories lost to the ages.  He did _look_ like a poor lost puppy, but alas, I took him in to care for as a charity case, not as a pet.”

“Could have fooled me,” Watanuki mumbled.

“I can always change my mind,” Yuuko reminded him sternly, “The byres are looking a little empty these days.”

Watanuki glared, but kept his mouth shut. 

“He’s such a darling!” the fairy continued to gush, “He looks a lot like Clow, doesn’t he?”

“Mmm,” Yuuko agreed, “He _does_ , doesn’t he.”

“Is _that_ why you’re keeping him?”  There was a teasing glint in her eye as she snuck closer to Yuuko to elbow the queen playfully.

Yuuko’s eyes narrowed.  “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

“Aww…” the fairy’s face fell, “You’re no fun.  But yes, I suppose I should be heading back to the palace before they realize I’m gone…”

“That you should,” Yuuko paused as the fairy turned to take her leave, “And the other…?”

The fairy snorted, “Oh _yes_ …” she gestured to the north briefly before doubling over with laughter, “Enjoy your walk, Yuuko darling!”

Yuuko smiled and waved as she once again took to the sky.  “Come on, Watanuki.  We still have a good amount of ground to cover this morning.”

~*~*~

Doumeki woke with a pounding head and the distinct impression that his limbs had been dipped in lead and bolted to the ground.  The pounding he could attribute to the strange woman poking a stick between his eyebrows , but the lead… _oh_.  Well.  That was going to require some explanation…

“Well good morning,” the strange woman said, pressing the stick more firmly against his forehead, “We were afraid you were dead.  This is a very strange position you’ve gotten yourself into here.”

“Huh?” Doumeki rubbed his face and tried to sit up.  He got about halfway before his torso locked and he was forced to throw an arm to the side to catch himself.  He frowned; he had a sneaking suspicion that this difficulty might be due to the fact that his lower half had been inexplicably replaced by a horse.  Or perhaps a horse’s upper half had been replaced by _him_.  Either way, he was now sporting four hoofed legs and a backside the size of a small shrine, complete with a wispy tail that seemed to twitch in time with his struggling.

…All of which didn’t really bother him so much, but with all four legs splayed out to one side, he was at a complete loss as to how to stand back up.

“Centaurs usually sleep with their legs tucked beneath them, I believe,” the woman continued with more than a faint hint of amusement coloring her voice.  She turned toward the young man travelling with her, clearly exposing a set of wings that hadn’t been evident just a moment earlier.  _Strange and unnatural things seemed to abound this morning…_

Doumeki shrugged.  “I don’t recall looking like this when I fell asleep…”  He wiggled his butt and flexed his legs – all to no avail.

“Your name?”

“Shizuka Doumeki,” the centaur answered, still trying to right himself.

“Watanuki – give Doumeki a hand.”

“What?  How am I supposed to do that?  He’s like six times bigger than me, anyway.  And don’t you think this is kind of suspicious?  He says he wasn’t a centaur when he fell asleep – what kind of cracked story is that?  And on top of that, he’s way too calm, Yuuko!”

Yuuko smirked, “Watanuki…I do believe there is the little matter of our contract…”

“Alright, _alright_!” Watanuki grumbled, “How am I supposed to get him up anyway?  He’s ginormous!”  He looped his arms beneath the centaur’s midsection and _lifted_ ; his feet dugs tracks into the dewed ground as they peddled fruitlessly for leverage that was never _quite_ granted.

Yuuko disguised her chuckles behind a carefully placed hand.  “From the other side,” she suggested, “Pull his front legs forward first.”  She watched with a smirk as Watanuki dragged Doumeki’s legs forward.  “Now, Doumeki – lean forward; Watanuki – push,” she winced as her charged pushed just a _bit_ too enthusiastically, “Doumeki, shift you weight to your back legs and extend… _there_!”  Yuuko clasped her hands together as Doumeki wobbled a bit, then took his fist steps on four legs. 

Watanuki eyed the newly-righted centaur suspiciously.  The beast was far too quiet for his liking and it _still_ hadn’t made much in the way of fuss about “suddenly” finding itself as a centaur.  His frown deepend as a loud _gurgle_ rumbled from its belly.

Doumeki looked around the clearing in search of his food pack and mule.  Neither were anywhere to be found, but the rope he had used to tether the mule the previous night hung limply from the tree it was bound to.  He pursed his lips, considering.  He didn’t suppose it would do much good for him to return home _or_ to continue on to the palace in this condition.  In fact, he was at a complete loss for how to proceed.  Despite his considerable spiritual training, he had never run across any proven method to “pray the fey away;” fey spirits and spells were remarkably resilient to all known techniques, even amongst the most experienced practitioners.  Still, he _was_ standing in the presence of a woman with a particularly impressive wingspan…

“What brings you to this part of the forest, Doumeki?” Yuuko inquired amiably.

Doumeki regarded her carefully.  “I was summoned to the capital to officiate Queen Kendappa’s wedding ceremony.  My map of the forest seems to be incorrect, though, and I settled down here for the night.”

“ _Ahhh_ ,” Yuuko replied knowingly, “A human, then.  And what bit of misfortune caused you to take on such an… _equine_ appearance?”

“I don’t know,” Doumeki answered truthfully, “I fell asleep last night as a human and woke up in this form.”

Yuuko’s lips curved ever-so-slightly.  “How awful for you.”  She paused for a moment, a thoughtful look on her face.  “Very well.  Shizuka Doumeki, I invite you to my home for the time being.  We will consult my magicians and apothecaries for a means to return you to a human so that you might fulfill your obligations to the Queen.”

Doumeki considered this for a moment.  It wasn’t as if he was able to right his appearance on his own, and lord only knew how long he might wander these woods before happening upon another person.  And this woman really _did_ have quite an impressive wingspan.  He bowed in polite acceptance, even as Watanuki sputtered, “ _Yuuko_!  You can’t be serious!  You just met this guy – you don’t know anything about him!  He could be an escaped convict feeding you a story for all we know!  I mean, look!  He’s got creepy _sanpakku_ eyes and everything!”

“Watanuki,” Yuuko said sternly, “If not for my kindness, you would still be wandering these woods, thoughtless and alone.  You would not extend the same hospitality to this poor traveler?”

“This is different!” Watanuki insisted, arms flailing in multiple directions, “There’s something wrong with this guy!”

“What’s wrong with him?” Yuuko worked her face into a pout, “He’s adorable!  Now, let’s make our way home, shall we?  I want breakfast – pancakes with jam and the apple wine you put up last month!”

“You already had breakfast!” Watanuki shouted, “And it’s too early for alcohol!”

“ _Fine then_!” Yuuko cut him off, though she allowed the impetuous flailing to continue, “Brunch!  And we’ll have the dandelion wine instead, and dried figs instead of jam.”

“The dandelion wine is even stronger than the apple!  You just want company to get drunk with!”

Doumeki plugged his ears with his fingers as the trio set forth into the forest.  He didn’t anticipate the hike back to this strange woman’s home to become any quieter.

~*~*~

Yukito woke with a sputtering cough as something heavy landed on his abdomen.  He bolted upright as the weight removed itself, just in time to see the most heavenly creature he had ever encountered dashing off away from their group and into the forest proper.  Her radiant red (or was it brown?  It seemed to change as the slender rays of sunlight breaking through the canopy accented different portions) hair fluttered in the breeze behind her and framed her face like a masterpiece as she turned  toward him.  Her face was familiar, and Yukito felt a sharp pang of guilt for Lord Touya’s earlier mistreatment of this most immaculate of beings now found dashing through the woods, likely further wounded by the unholy sight of he and Lord Touya tangled together in brush.  How could Lord Touya have denied this divinely beautiful woman?  He must be mad!  Well – he would _certainly_ not be so careless with her heart! 

Yukito was on his feet seconds later and brushed the last twiggy remnants of the forest floor away from his clothes before setting off in pursuit.

“Lady Akizuki!  Please – _wait_!”

Perhaps it was the last vestiges of sleep still impairing his motor control, or perhaps the meager sunlight making its way to the forest floor happened to catch his eyes at just the right angle; perhaps it was his blind devotion to Lady Akizuki that narrowed his peripheral vision to a mere tunnel, or perhaps it was some dastardly combination of the above that left Yukito sprawled, flat on his face, moments later between two very startled young nobles.

~*~*~

Sakura woke with a start as a flailing hand smacked against her head.  She winced and screwed her face up into a scowl as she opened her eyes a slit, fully prepared to find Syaoran flopping about in his sleep next to her. 

She felt the blood rush into her cheeks as she stared at her brother’s most trusted advisor, who was apologizing profusely as he clambered back to his feet and took off at a run into the forest.  She fought to catch her breath – had Yukito always been so…so… _hanyan_?  She could barely contain the excited flutter in her chest as she stood and started after him, leaving Syaoran to stare helplessly at her from the ground.

How could she have wasted so much time on a _boy_ when this gloriously magnificent specimen of _man_ had been so near to her all along?

~*~*~

Syaoran had long held that a well-placed kick to the nether-regions was an effective, if unpleasant way to wake a sleeping person.  He could attest, at this very moment, that both clauses were true, though he was more focused on the “unpleasant” aspect as he wrenched his eyes open to determine just _who_ was kneeling on his groin. 

He found himself face to face with the most sublimely shaped posterior he had ever encountered.  The rounded globes danced before his eyes in an entrancing rhythm as their owner quickly righted himself.  Syaoran opened his mouth to beg the owner to stay – even if just for a moment – but found he was stunned into silence.  _Yukito?_   How had he not realized…?  All these years he had devoted himself to Sakura…  Well, if Yukito wanted to wake him with a shock to the groin, he was more than welcome to do so any time he pleased…

Syaoran reached out to express with his hands what he could not with words but missed the cuff of Yukito’s pants by only the scantest of measures.  He sank back into himself, dejected.

He looked over at Sakura and felt his stomach drop.  She was already on her feet, making her way after Yukito.  Neither of them were very far; he would be able to overtake them with ease.

He would not fail in his quest to woo the divine cheeks of dorsal delectability.

~*~*~

Touya was pissed.  He had been in the middle of the most pleasant dream – which had stared, in no particular order, a pitchfork, an angry wombat, and the Li brat – when the startled shout of his sister woke him.  He debated the merits of several different methods of torture and execution and how best to implement them before opening his eyes.  _If that brat had laid a hand on his sister…_

His anger soon faded away, however, as the most beautiful vision he had ever witnessed fell into focus.  Touya sobbed, his heart unable to reconcile his earlier murderous intentions with the unbearable swelling of love currently flooding its chambers.  He felt he would never be the same again…


	4. Chapter 4

_Captain of our fairy band,_   
_Helena is here at hand,_   
_And the youth, mistook by me,_   
_Pleading for a lover’s fee._   
_Shall we their fond pageant see?_   
_Lord, what fools these mortals be!_

 _-A Midsummer Night’s Dream_

 

Kurogane yawned, stretched, and dragged his fingers through his leg hair in his familiar morning ritual.  The sun was beating in through the curtains, impatiently reminding him that day had broken and there was something he really ought to get out of bed and take care of…

Ah!  _Ahahaha_!  It was morning!  The curse should be broken and he could go about his life and everything was going to be so much better from here on out that he almost couldn’t believe it _and_ -

“Oi – Manjuu,” he grunted, picking a nit out from behind his knee and scowling.  Why did he still have fur?  And where the hell were his wings?  His beautiful, sparkling, long-missing wings?  “Isn’t the curse supposed to be lifted?”

Mokona stirred from her make-shift bed on the side table and rubbed her eyes.  “The curse breaks once the brother gives his okay,” she mumbled sleepily.

“So if we still look like this…”

“Then nothing’s changed.”

Kurogane stifled a growl and rolled to glare at the bed next to his.  Fay was still asleep, tangled in his blankets and snoring loudly.  Kurogane quickly sat up and tossed his pillow at the matted mess of blond hair.  Something had gone wrong with this “fail-proof” plan – just as Kurogane had said it would – and now the two of them were likely cursed for all eternity and-

“ _Ow_ , Kuro-rin,” Fay groaned, “What did I do to deserve that _this_ morning?”

“Take a look at yourself,” Kurogane snapped, “Look at me.  We’re still trapped in these god-awful bodies!”

“Hmm…” Fay examined his hooves as he slid out bed and moved to the window.  “Well,” he said slowly as he lifted the curtains, “It’s still early.  Maybe they haven’t woken up yet.”

“Mokona agrees.  Let’s all go back to sleep…”

“Or maybe you screwed it up – like you always do!” Kurogane shouted, exasperated, “I told you; you should have woken them up right away!  God only knows what’s happened now.”  He huffed and stomped toward the door, “I’m going to find them and sort out this mess.”

Fay caught his arm before he was able to march through the frame.  “Calm down, Kuro-tan,” he soothed, “Like I said; it’s early – the sun is barely up!  Let’s wait a bit just to be sure – you know how lazy humans can be in the mornings. You never see them before noon!”

Kurogane set his jaw.  _No_.  He was going _now_.  If Fay wanted to stay here and wait like a moron for a happy ending that more than likely wasn’t going to come, he was more than welcome.  But Kurogane wasn’t about to play around with _his_ future.  He’d lost too much time as it was, parading around this ridiculous slum in these ridiculous hooves-

“At least let me make you breakfast first,” Fay pleaded, “It’s probably the last one I’ll ever make for you.”

Kurogane paused.  Breakfast was not entirely a bad idea, even if he was well aware Fay was only offering it as a distraction.  He could certainly use the energy at the very least.  He narrowed his eyes.  “Fine,” he grunted, “But nothing fancy.  Just some toast or something.  And,” he added quickly, noting the faraway look in Fay’s eyes, “ _Don’t_ go getting all sentimental.  It’s just breakfast.”

“Never, Kuro-pan!” Fay sang as he pushed past Kurogane into the hallway, “I’ll just do up some waffles, alright?  And maybe some fruit and cream.  Or would you prefer sausage?  I’d have to run down to the butcher for that, but it shouldn’t take long-”

“Just toast!” Kurogane repeated gruffly, crossing his arms.

“Toasted _waffles_ ,” Fay insisted, skipping into the kitchen, “And fruit and cream.  Kuro-stomp can’t go galloping through the woods without a well-balanced breakfast!”

Kurogane cursed quietly as he pulled up a seat at their kitchen table.  Fay flitted about the kitchen much like he did every morning, yet Kurogane couldn’t help but notice that his movements this morning had a certain hesitancy to them; the skip in his step was less… _springy_ , the way he mixed the batter more solemn – even his obnoxious singing seemed forced.  He sighed and massaged his temples – he’d always suspected that Fay had no desire to return to his previous life, but he really wasn’t in the mood to deal with that this morning.  Not when they were so close…

What was that fool’s problem, anyway?  All this false happiness was grating on Kurogane.  Fay had been regarded well enough as a court magician before the incident; Kurogane couldn’t figure out for the life of him why Fay was so hesitant to go back.  He couldn’t be embarrassed – that seemed well out of the realm of possibilities when it came to a man who had no qualms about breaking into song and stroking his own horns in public – could he?  No, Kurogane was sure he was missing something – probably something stupid and annoying; there was _nothing_ too miss about this lifestyle.  He huffed and watched as Fay lit up the stove.

He would probably miss breakfast.

But _only_ breakfast.

~*~*~

Yukito was exhausted.  Lady Akizuki must have been _terribly_ wounded to tear off at such a pace through the forest and he cursed himself for his inability to catch up with and comfort her, even as he settled down atop a tree stump to catch his breath.  Her lead had only increased as he’d pursued; she was well beyond his sight now.  His best – and quite possibly only – bet now was to return to the palace to find her.  He supposed he was professionally obligated to ensure Lord Touya made it back to the palace as well, but the very thought of the other man made his stomach churn with heart-wrenching anger at the other’s sleight of Lady Akizuki.  No, Lord Touya could find his own way back to the palace; Yukito would be announcing his resignation shortly after he arrived.

There was a rustling behind him and Syaoran and Sakura emerged from the brush, red faced and breathing heavily.  Yukito smiled warmly at them; in his rush to find his lady love, he’d nearly forgotten the reason he’d set out in the woods to begin with.  Now, at least, they could all return to the palace together and live happily ever after with their beloveds…

Except for Lord Touya.  But that probably served him right.

Sakura flushed several shades deeper at the sight of Yukito and let out a small “Eep!” 

Syaoran froze in his tracks, then turned on his heel and bolted.

“Sakura?” Yukito said slowly, puzzled by the boy’s behavior, “Is Syaoran alright?”

“…Who?” Sakura giggled.  She sat daintily at Yukito’s feet and gazed up at him.

“Are _you_ feeling alright, Sakura?”

Sakura grinned and sighed.  “I’m so happy to be here with you, Yukito!  I feel…so…so… _hanyan_!”

Yukito frowned.  These two were acting _very_ strangely this morning.

~*~*~

“Oi – _Brat_!”

Syaoran looked up from the apples he was busily collecting – plucking the ripest ones from the low-hanging branches and stashing them in the upturned hem of his shirt – and froze.  He backed away slowly, eyes narrowing as he turned to face his nemesis.  He said nothing, only glared with a ferocity that rivaled the most desperate of trapped carnivores.

This was a well rehearsed scene.  Both actors had played their respective roles for years; both knew their marks, their lines, and their timing was impeccable.  Touya would glare; Syaoran would scowl.  Sparks would inevitably flare where their gazes met; during especially tense encounters, Syaoran might see fit to set part of Touya’s clothing on fire.  The moment would pass and the two would go on their way, neither one anxious to spend more time than necessary in the other’s presence.

Syaoran completed his ritual scowl and bent to retrieve an apple that had fallen from his shirt.  He flinched as he felt a hand connect with his shoulder.

It stayed there.

Syaoran swallowed thickly.  The hand…seemed to be moving.  Squeezing.  _Gently_.  He looked up, wide-eyed, and backed away in fear.

The look in Touya’s eyes was not entirely unfamiliar to Syaoran (he was certain he’d wasted something similar on Sakura many times during their unduly _long_ courtship), but was unaccountably disturbing to witness plastered across his nemesis’s face as it currently was.  Syaoran shuddered and moved to bolt, only to have his back crash forcefully into an oak trunk.

 _Dammit_.

Touya’s hand landed on the tree just above his head.  Syaoran gulped; he was fairly sure his would-be brother-in-law was leaning ever-closer, warm breath playing against his unguarded cheeks and tickling his ears; each exhale promising far greater doom than the last.

“Syao…” Touya breathed.

“Syaoran,” Syaoran corrected, tilting his head as far away as he could manage.  What the hell was going on?  He braced himself, waiting for the hand balancing just above to come crashing down into his skull, and bit his lip.

“Syao…” Touya grinned, “You know…”

“Syaoran.”

“About you…I…” Touya trailed off, a far away look in his eyes.

Syaoran winced.  “Yes?” he managed to squeak.

“I…” Touya paused to collect himself, “You…”

“ _Yes?_ ”  Syaoran felt he was nearing the brink of a colossal meltdown.  Lord Touya was either about to kill him or – god forbid – profess his…oh _hell_ no!  Syaoran didn’t have the constitution to put up with much more of this.  It was clear that the young lord had gone completely insane and what was _more_ – Yukito’s backside was all alone with Sakura, probably unguarded and _definitely_ unappreciated for the fine specimen of gluteal perfection it was.

“I…”

Syaoran slunk, ignoring the stinging bark digging into his back as it scraped across the rough surface.  He was probably going to have a forest of splinters embedded between his shoulder blades, but that was a small price to pay to escape the casual molestation he was currently staring down.  Touya moved to intercept him, but Syaoran was quicker and maneuvered himself swiftly to the side. 

Touya watched, dumbstruck, as his dearest love ran off before he was able to confess.

~*~*~

Watanuki seethed.  It was an activity he seemed to be engaging in quite a lot of this morning – probably more than was strictly healthy, though Yuuko had noted that it was much quieter than his usually flailing and therefore more suited to his indoor duties.  He had seethed _loudly_ after that, but to no avail; the Fairy Queen would not relent and the centaur continued to stuff its face with every bit and morsel left unattended.

“It is really necessary to do this in the kitchen?” Watanuki demanded, for the fifth or sixth time in the past hour (he’d lost count and no one else seemed to be paying him any attention), “Wouldn’t the stables be better?”

The conjurers Yuuko had called in simply stared at him.  The taller of the two let loose an exasperated sigh.  “We don’t want to spook the horses,” he said simply.

“Look…what did you say your name was?”

“Rikuou.”

“Look, _Rikuou_ ,” Watanuki dragged his palm across his face, “You’re spooking _me_.  Every five minutes there’s another loud _bang_ and a puff of smoke and something even more awful is standing in that thing’s place!”

Rikuou blinked and cocked an eyebrow.  “We haven’t actually transformed him into anything else,” he paused and nodded to his partner, “Kazahaya, go ahead.”

“Yes, but the…!” Watanuki cut himself off in midsentence as the other conjurer waved his wand and a swirl of wind and surprisingly girly sparkles enveloped the centaur.  He grimaced.  He hadn’t been lying – their earlier transformation of Doumeki’s hooves into duck feet _had_ been spooky, and the appearance of antlers on its already gloomy head had really been too disturbing for words.

The smoke cleared momentarily and Watanuki was left coughing and _staring_.

“What?” Doumeki asked, snatching another apple tart from the platter on the counter next to him.

“Nothing,” Watanuki snipped, turning quickly away, “You look exactly the same.”

Doumeki appraised his body.  It was true; nothing seemed to be out of place – no duck feet, no (he quickly felt his head) antlers, no odd additions of any kind.  The horse half was still there though, stubbornly attached to his torso and giving no indications of disappearing anytime soon.  He looked at the conjurer who had cast the spell.

Kazahaya frowned.  He was certain he had performed the spell correctly…  If nothing else, whatever magic was keeping the human in his centaur form should have produced an artifact – something the reflected magic would have been focused into rather than lifting the curse…but there was nothing.  “That’s odd…” he murmured, taking a step closer.

“What did you do?” Rikuou asked.  He also moved closer, checking around Doumeki’s back side for any anomalies that might have appeared out of their line of sight.

“Just a standard erasure,” Kazahaya rubbed his chin thoughtfully, “I thought maybe if we tried that first – before hitting it with a reverse transfiguration – that it might weaken whatever curse is binding him…but…”

“Weird,” Rikuou agreed, “Well, I sup-”

“Oh for…” Watanuki grumbled, spinning to look at them, “Do you _really_ not see it?”

Rikuou cocked an eyebrow.  Kazahaya – always the less subtle of the two – cocked his head.

“See what?”

Watanuki flushed several shades of red and turned back around.  “Nothing,” he mumbled then, watching Doumeki snatch another tart from the platter, “STOP EATING THOSE!  I AM NOT BAKING ANY MORE!  DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHERE YOU ARE?  SHOW SOME DECORUM!”

Doumeki shrugged and continue to munch the tart.  It occurred to him that some wine would be more than appropriate to wash down its sweetness with, and he turned back to the counter where he had left his glass.

“Hey!  He’s got no nipples!” Kazahaya balked.

“What?” Rikuou gripped Doumeki’s shoulder to turn the centaur back to face him.  “Dammit, Kaza…” he sighed, “You did it again.”

“Again?!” Watanuki screeched, “You do this often?”

Kazahaya flushed, just noticeably.  “No!  It was just supposed to be a routine erasure!”

“You mixed up the Magnum Erase and the Mammary Erase spells again, didn’t you?” Rikuou sighed. 

“Why does a ‘Mammary Erase” spell even exist?!” Watanuki demanded.  This was ridiculous.  The conjurers were ridiculous.  Everything in the Fairy Kingdom was ridiculous!  Why in the world did centaurs even have nipple on their chest?  Shouldn’t they be… _lower_?  How did one go about… _ahhh_!  The ridiculousness was clearly affecting him.  And if that oaf didn’t stop wolfing down those tarts like he was a starving beast instead of well-fed guest, well, he was going to…going to… _bah_!  He snatched the tray of tarts away from the counter and slammed it down on top of the stove, well out of the centaur’s reach, and smirked.

“Well,” Kazahaya said with a slight air of offence, “It’s so much less messy than cosmetic surgery and-”

“ _Oh never mind_!” Watanuki shouted, “I don’t want to know!  Just hurry up and get him back to how he was!”

“Still having trouble in here?” Yuuko inquired from the doorway.  She was flanked on either side by two older fairies, each carrying several vials of colorful liquid.  She grinned, eyeing Doumeki’s still-equine form, and turned back to the conjurers.  “I thought that might be the case,” she wafted into the room and circled slowly around Doumeki. “This is an especially strong curse,” she paused and set a hand on his shoulder, shuddering in surprise and chuckling as she did, “Yes, _very_ strong indeed.  Why don’t you boys take a break and let the apothecaries have a go?  Watanuki – get out some wine,” she glanced toward the mostly-empty platter of tarts, “And bake some more sweets.  We mustn’t be inhospitable!”

Rikuou and Kazahaya bowed their heads and stepped to the side; Kazahaya quickly and sheepishly waved his wand one final time to restore Doumeki to his full mammalian state.

Watanuki couldn’t help but note with some satisfaction that the centaur had the decency to look relieved.

~*~*~

Sakura was in heaven.  Her fiancé (she was _really_ going to have to do something about that title, but she was much too occupied at the moment to give it much thought) had disappeared back into the woods and her brother had yet to make an appearance, which left her alone with Yukito.  Dear, sweet, _perfect_ Yukito.  She sighed, admiring the way the rays of light danced off his distractingly radiant silver hair, the way his distractingly radiant hair framed his wonderfully handsome face, the way his wonderfully handsome face rested atop such strapping, magnificently well-muscles shoulders… _hanyan_!

The only way Yukito could _possibly_ be any more perfect was if he were to begin sparkling in the sun.  She wondered vaguely if Tomoyo had any glitter stocked away in her endless piles of creative materials back at the palace.  If she did… _well_!  Sakura was just going to have to find them and…

Her train of thought was derailed by a loud rustling, followed by an exhausted Syaoran stumbling through the trees and dropping to his knees at Yukito’s feet.  He released the hem of his shirt that he’d been clutching to his chest and let the pile of apples he’d collected fall.  He motioned to Yukito and started to say something, but choked on his words as a deep swell of red blossomed across his face.  He stared in horrified awe instead.

Yukito smiled and chuckled softly.  “Are these for me?”

Syaoran nodded vigorously and pushed the pile forward.

Sakura’s eyes narrowed.  Just _what_ did Syaoran think he was doing to _her_ Yukito?  It wasn’t bad enough that he was such a _little_ boy in the grand scheme of things, but now he was _clearly_ trying to court Yukito?  _Her_ Yukito?  She _hmphed_ quietly and scooted closer to her love, glaring daggers at the intruder the entire while.

Syaoran glared back and offered the choicest apple of the bunch to Yukito.

Yukito sighed as he accepted the gift.  These two were acting _very_ strangely this morning.

~*~*~

Doumeki stared warily at the vial being thrust toward him.  He was growing tired of this exercise; the fairies (well, _fairy_ ; the second of the pair didn’t seem to be interested in much beyond reclining in his seat with his feet on the counter and snoring with an unlit cigarette hanging from his lips) mixing potions were proving to be even _less_ effective than the two casting spells earlier.  He was ready to thank them for their efforts, apologize profusely to this fairy lady and thank her for her generous hospitality, then set back out on his way.  He obviously hadn’t been thinking clearly when he had accept her offer  – surely the palace where he was expected kept mages on staff that knew transfiguration magic and if not, then, well…he supposed he wouldn’t mind remaining in this body _too_ terribly much.  It did have the distinct advantages of economic long distance travel and load-hauling, after all.

“Come now, Doumeki,” Yuuko encouraged, “Kakei is the only potion master in the kingdom capable of mixing this, and he’s worked _so_ hard,” she worked her face into a pout and nodded toward the fairy holding the vial inches from his face, “You can chase it with this when you’re done!”  She waggled a large bottle of dandelion wine.

“Don’t give him that!” Watanuki sputtered from across the kitchen, “He’s already had an entire bottle of the apple wine!  The last thing we need is a drunk centaur galloping around the kitchen and breaking all of my pots!”

“Watanuki…” Yuuko said patiently, “Surely you realize this is a very _trying_ experience for Doumeki.  You’re usually such a kind-hearted boy; what’s got your panties in such a bundle this morning?”

“My panties are not-” Watanuki began, cutting himself off as he realized the implications of his words and scowling at Yuuko, who was now giggling behind her hand. 

“I can help with that,” Kazahaya offered, wand at the ready.

“What?!  No!” Watanuki insisted, backing away from the group, “I don’t even want to imagine what kind of help you’d come out with…”

“It’s just a shrinking spell,” Kazahaya muttered, staring crossly at the ground.

“Mmm,” Rikuou nodded and swiped his wand in Kazahaya’s direction.  “Like that,” he indicated as the hem of the other’s robes crept ever higher, finally passing his knees and stopping at mid-thigh.

Kazahaya flailed, simultaneously attempting to pull the hem of his robes back down to a more modest length and cross his legs and failing quite badly at both in the end.  “What the hell are you doing, Rikuou?!” he shouted angrily, managing to produce a halfway decent-sound disgruntled sneer from behind the curtain of red threatening to swallow his face.

Rikuou shrugged.  “Demonstrating.”

 _“Why are you demonstrating on my clothes?!”_

Rikuou considered this for a moment.  “Because you have the nicest legs,” he offered at long last.

 _“I do-”_

“Alright boys,” the fairy reclined at the counter sat up suddenly, “That’s enough flirting for this afternoon.  Why don’t you stop interrupting and let him drink?” 

Doumeki shrugged and took the vial from Kakei.  Fairies were an entertaining lot – that much was certain – though the act was beginning to get a bit stale.  He sniffed the concoction and immediately wished he hadn’t; where the first potion he’d been given had tasted of berries (and had nearly brought him to all four of his knees, wretching in agony only moments later), _this_ smelt of death and decay with a generous helping of mint leaves sprinkled across the surface to mask the repugnant odor.  He screwed his face up and _looked_ at Kakei.

Kakei merely smiled and motioned for Doumeki to drink up.

Doumeki held his breath and tilted the vial back.  The concoction tasted almost as foul as it had smelled, even without the aid of his nose.  He could feel it slide slowly, gelatinously down his throat, as if all the muscles there were actively working to propel it back up and out.  He shuddered and was suddenly aware of every hair on his body standing straight on end.  He closed his eyes as the remainder of the fetid glop sloshed in his stomach.

“Now there’s something you don’t see every day,” Kakei remarked, a hint of amusement coloring his voice, “Saiga,” the fairy at the counter kicked up his heels and stood for the first time all afternoon, “Take a sample of this – I want to analyze it when we get home.”

Doumeki’s eyes opened once again as he felt a thick strand of hair plucked from his tail.  He craned his neck as far as he was able to find _both_ Kakei and Saiga staring in wonderment at the plucked hair.

“I’m pink,” Doumeki said after a long moment had passed with no explanation.

“That you most certainly are,” Kakei agreed, holding the strand of hair up into the light for a better view.

“So he’s _pink_ , so what?” Watanuki demanded, “He’s still a centaur and he’s _still_ cluttering up my kitchen!”

“It’s a very rare color for a centaur,” Kakei explained, “Very valuable.  Say, Mr. Doumeki, I don’t suppose you’d be interested in remaining like this for awhile?  I think together we could turn a very handsome profit-”

“That’ll be enough, Kakei,” Yuuko said sternly, though without breaking her smile, “Take a few samples, but it’s imperative that he return to human form.”

Kakei grinned, clearly having expected this reaction.  “Of course, Your Highness,” he replied lightly, “Though if that’s the case, I don’t see why we’re fussing about like this.  There is a perfectly simple way to lift this curse,” he paused, looking curiously over at Watanuki, “And it’s standing right here in the kitchen.”

Doumeki raised an eyebrow.  And belched.

Yuuko regarded Watanuki with a smirk as he predictably reacted to the gaseous release with shrieking and flailing.  “Yes,” she agreed, nodding slowly, “But he won’t like it.”

Doumeki belched again.  His entire stomach seemed to be expanding, ballooning to what he was sure must be three times its normal size.  He burped again, quieter this time, but to no less hyperbolic reception.

Yuuko laughed lowly.  “Alright, Kakei, give him the antidote.  The poor boy is bound to be sick if this keeps up.”

Kakei sighed and clattered through his collection of vials and stoppered bottles.  Doumeki continued to belch.

“Oh _please_ hurry up!” Watanuki whined, “It’s bound to start making its way out the other end soon and the kitchen already stinks like horse!”

~*~*~

“So what will you do?”

“Huh?” Kurogane grunted.  He was only half paying attention as they plodded through the brush, winding and weaving along the path Fay _swore_ he and Mokona had stumbled across the humans on the night before.  It was already afternoon; waiting until after breakfast had done little to relieve them of the hooves and horns – not that he’d clung to the hope that it _would –_ and Kurogane was certain they’d wasted far too much time on this wild goose chase already.  If they didn’t find the humans soon…

“Once you’ve got your wings back – after we’ve finished this little mission,” Fay continued, “What will you do?”

Kurogane stared at him skeptically.  How many times had they had this conversation?  How many evenings had they spent, drowning in cheap alcohol and self-pity, hashing and rehashing this topic?  “I’m-”

“Going to back to the palace-”

“Why do you ask if you already know?” Kurogane huffed.

“Just making conversation, Kuro-rin,” Fay assured him, “You never know when something might change…”

“Why would something change?” Kurogane demanded impatiently.  He didn’t like the direction this conversation seemed to be heading in.

Fay chuckled.  “I don’t know!  You’re the one who’s always banging on about how the past means nothing and only new decisions are important.  I thought maybe you might, you know, actually make some.”

“I made my decision long ago.”

“Yes, well, I did say _new_ decisions.”

“You’re being willfully obtuse.”

“You’re so boring, Kuro-tan,” Fay chuckled, even as Kurogane rounded on him.

“Yeah!  Kuro-puu is _boring_!” Mokona agreed.

Kurogane glared.  “There’s nothing boring about wanting some stability in your life.  Not everyone is happy flitting around with no purpose or cares.”

Fay laughed harder.  “But you want to go back to being a _fairy_ , of all things!  There is no form of life more frivolous or flitting in all of creation!”

“Except for Mokona!”

Kurogane growled, “Which is why _you_ fit in _perfectly_.  And yet, you’re content to wander around just like this for the rest of your life.”

“I never said that.”

“You didn’t have to.  You’ve never given a damn about anyone else, you’ve shrugged off the past six years as some sort of joke, even after it was your little party trick that got us into this mess.  You’ve sabotaged every single attempt you’ve made at completing this mission, and even now after you’ve completely screwed things up you’re _still_ here – cracking jokes and treating it like a game!”

Fay was no longer laughing or smiling.  “I give a damn.  I really didn’t think this would go so wrong…”

“No?” Kurogane huffed, then relented, cringing at Fay’s crestfallen expression.  “Oh for…  Look, if you say you didn’t think so, I’ll believe you.  But it’s just compounding what I’ve already said – you don’t care!  If you cared, you’d have paid more attention!” 

“You’re right,” Fay stared at his feet, “I was sloppy.  It won’t happen again.”

Kurogane frowned.  He didn’t understand why Fay had even agreed to this if he didn’t want to return to being a fairy.  He didn’t understand the logic behind putting so much effort into a task that yielded an undesirable (or at least not actively desired) reward.  He didn’t understand…well…he didn’t understand _Fay_.  His frowned deepend; _that_ , he supposed, _was not entirely true_.  He understood that, despite his overly friendly nature and penchant for meddling in other’s personal lives, Fay was an intensely private person who deflected any sort of curiosity about his past with foolishness, inquiries about his motivations with idiocy, and questions about his taste in décor with more lace.  He could appreciate a desire for privacy (after all, he wasn’t terribly forthcoming about his own past or thoughts); he could accept that the man insisted on presenting himself as a walking contradiction.  That didn’t mean he was going to pretend to understand _why_.

Still, Fay seemed sincere enough – he’d lived with him long enough to pick up on _that_ , at any rate – and Kurogane wasn’t in much of a mood to argue with him at the moment.  If Fay said he gave a damn, well, Kurogane would give him the benefit of the doubt.  That’s what he’d said all along, hadn’t he?

“Come on,” Kurogane muttered, “Let’s just hurry up and-”

“ _I GOT YOUR HANYAN RIGHT HERE IN MY-_ ”

Both fauns spun as a flurry of activity erupted from the surrounding brush.  A blur of flailing arms and legs fell to the ground, thrashing, kicking, ripping, smashing…

Kurogane knew in an instant that they’d stumbled across their targets.


	5. Chapter 5

_  
Like to a double cherry, seeming parted,  
But yet an union in partition;  
Two lovely berries moulded on one stem;  
So, with two seeming bodies, but one heart;  
Two of the first, like coats in heraldry,  
Due but to one and crowned with one crest.  
And will you rent our ancient love asunder,  
To join with men in scorning your poor friend?_

 _ _  
O, when she's angry, she is keen and shrewd!  
She was a vixen when she went to school;  
And though she be but little, she is fierce.__

 _ _  
-A Midsummer Night's Dream III;ii  
__

 __

 __

 __

Sakura was beyond flustered. Today had been a thoroughly confusing day; she'd woken up to Yukito's brilliant face mere inches from her own and had, in that instant, realized that she'd wasted a good portion of her life. Worse, only a day before she had been willing to throw away everything –   _everything_ ; her life, her family, her title – on this little child of a man! That had been perplexing enough, it was really icing on the proverbial cake that she now found herself completely unable to remember how or  _why_ she had ever felt so strongly about Syaoran that she'd stoop to such lowly tactics as running away, let alone puzzle how she had not realized her true feelings for Yukito. He had been there all along, right by her side, and she had failed to notice. Her cheeks flushed with the shame – if only she had realized sooner…

She had fretted – if only momentarily – over how to break the news to Syaoran. It wasn't exactly  _his_  fault that he scarcely compared to Yukito's divine perfection. Surely it wasn't fair to compare his rather drab brown eyes to Yukito's sparkling gold and he (probably) couldn't help that his nose was ever-so-slightly off-center, or that his cheeks occupied rather too much of his face. No matter his numerous imperfections (and no matter  _how_  she despised herself for not making note of them sooner), she had resolved to let him down gently; breaking his spirit might reflect poorly on her.

And then he had shown up, panting and sweating and looking otherwise disheveled, with a shirt-full of apples to gift her beloved.

She floundered for a moment, the final pieces of a long-jumbled puzzle finally snapping into place. Everything her brother had said over the years had been correct; Syaoran was nothing more than a low-life, sniveling brat intent upon stealing everything that was precious to their family. She glared and plucked an apple from the pile. She had been a fool.

Syaoran whipped around to face her. "Those aren't for you," he said flatly.

Sakura scoffed and bit down noisily.

"It's no use telling her not to eat something," a voice came from behind them, "Monsters have unusually large appetites."

"Touya!" Sakura exclaimed, feeling only the briefest pang of shame that she had been so utterly wrapped up in basking in Yukito's presence that she had completely neglected to ask (or care) where her brother had gotten to. The two were usually inseparable, and yet it had not struck her as odd to find Yukito alone in these woods…

Her eyes narrowed sharply.

Competition was  _everywhere_  this morning.

Touya ignored his sister's angry glare and dropped to one knee in front of Syaoran. "You dropped these," he said, pressing two apples into the young man's hands, "You worked so hard at picking them, I thought…"

Syaoran took the apples gingerly and leaned back as far as he could, his face twisting into a bewildered grimace. "Uh, thanks…" he stammered.

"Touya, what are you-" Sakura started.

"Quiet, monster," Touya snapped, eyes still fixed longingly on Syaoran's face, "And put that apple down. If he says they're not for you, then they're not for you." He picked an apple up from the pile at Yukito's feet. "May I?"

"I, uh…" Syaoran managed, looking worriedly back at Yukito, "They're for…" His grimace faded into an expression of outright horror as Touya bit into the apple and let the juices drip down his chin.

"Touya, what's gotten into you?" Sakura demanded, then spun to face Syaoran, "And what do you  _mean_  they're for him? Stop-  _stop flirting with Yukito_!"

"Yes," Touya chimed in, "Stop flirting with Yukito." He reached forward to take Syaoran's hand into his own, " _Please_."

Syaoran yanked his hand back, eyes darting suspiciously back and forth between the siblings. "I can flirt with whoever I want! I…" he flushed deeply and stared at Yukito in wide-eyed embarrassment.

"Your charms are wasted on him, Syaoran," Touya soothed, "And the monster is just jealous of your good looks and unending kindness, even to someone as homely and plain as Yukito."

"Yukito isn't homely or plain!" Sakura declared indignantly, "I love him!"

"You don't know the meaning of the word!" Syaoran retorted, "You could never love him like I do!"

"You… _love_ …" Touya choked.

"Um, Sakura, Syaoran…" Yukito stammered, "That's very kind of you, but-  _What do you mean, 'homely and plain?_ '" Yukito spun to face Touya, eyes narrowing into thin lines. Sakura gasped; she had never seen Yukito get angry before and it was marvelous –  _marvelous_  – the way his face contorted just  _so_. He looked like a marble god, ready to strike down the heretic who had invoked his wrath. She shivered in anticipation.

"Oi, monster," Touya said, suddenly calm. He stood from his crouch at Syaoran's feet, "Pick your chin up off the floor; you're drooling." He stepped closer to Yukito. "I mean _homely_  in that you have a dopey, sucker's face that only a ridiculous teenage girl would find attractive and  _plain_  in that you have the emotional range of a blissed out donkey!"

" _Blissed out donkey_?" Yukito sputtered, "What the   _hell_  is that even supposed to mean?"

"Oooh," Touya taunted, "Someone's breaking out the big-boy words! How very unlike you,  _Yukito_."

Yukito glared. "I don't have time to play with you today,  _Lord Touya_ ," he shook his head sadly, "Not when your sister complex has wounded such a tender, beautiful lady such as Akizuki…" His eyes were suddenly bright with tears as he turned to stare off into the woods where his lady had disappeared.

Touya stiffened and glanced quickly at Syaoran, who grimaced and looked away just as quickly. "Shut up," he muttered, "I don't have a sister complex."

" _Really_? Then why are we here?"

Touya floundered. "Because I…I have only  _just_  realized my true love for Master Li! I knew there was something driving my… _opposition_  to their engagement, but I…"

"Wasn't it only yesterday that you said that she has terrible taste in men?"

" _Brother_!" Sakura was indignant and drew herself up to full height.

"I…I only meant for  _herself_!" Touya sputtered, dropping to one knee in front of Syaoran, "Please, Master Li – may I call you Syao?" -Syaoran shook his head "no" emphatically- "Please forgive me, Syao."

Syaoran cringed and shifted his gaze rapidly between his silver-haired knight and the clearly deranged man at his feet. Flustered beyond coherency, he quickly plucked one of the apples from the ground and thrust it at Yukito meaningfully.

Yukito smiled and accepted the offering. "Thank you, Syaoran. But I'm afraid I must be going now. Lady Akizuki…"

Syaoran's heart beat thunderously against his chest with Yukito's acknowledgement and his face felt like it might explode. "I…I…yes…" he mumbled dumbly.

Sakura stared in disgust and picked one of the apples up herself, rushing to Yukito's side and offering it with all the gentle charm she could muster over the deep welling of hatred for Syaoran she could feel bubbling up to the surface. Yukito sighed and accepted this as well. "Thank you, Sakura," he ruffled her hair quickly and stepped to the side, "But I'm going now."

Sakura barely registered the last of Yukito's words through the thick ocean of viscous jelly occupying the space between her ears where her brain had once resided. She fought quickly to recover. "I'll go with you!" she exclaimed, catching his hand as he attempted to break away from the group.  _Yes, that would do nicely; they could wander uninterrupted through the forest and when they returned to the palace, she could see to finding that stash of glitter…_  
  
She was snapped out of her machinations by a loud scoff. "Don't be foolish," Syaoran sneered, "She has a terrible sense of direction, even on the best of days. I'll return with you."

"Syao-" Touya yelped, grabbing at the younger man's leg.

" _Get off_!" Syaoran tried in vain to shake the vile weight from leg but, in the end, gave up and made a valiant effort to stride to Yukito's side with it still attached. Touya sobbed and gripped tighter.

"I have a  _fantastic_  sense of direction!" Sakura insisted, "It was  _you_  who got us lost out here in the first place!"

"You were the one who insisted we stop to sleep!" Syaoran shot back angrily, "Probably because you wanted to snuggle that ridiculous stuffed bear of yours!"

Touya stopped nuzzling against Syaoran's thigh long enough to cast a horrified glance at his sister. "You're still  _doing_  that…?" he groaned.

"Kero-chan is not a bear!" Sakura stamped her foot, "He is clearly a lion! Or… _something_! My brother was right when he said you were an uneducated little punk!"

" _Sakura_!" Touya gasped. He clutched fiercely at Syaoran's leg, which was coming dangerously close to connecting with his face, and stared pleadingly up the other, "It's true," he admitted quickly, "But only because I didn't underst-" He was cut off by an apple thumping against his forehead and stared back at his sister. " _Monster_ ," he hissed, "This is no time to pick a fight…"

Sakura smirked triumphantly. "Sorry brother -  _I missed_."

Touya was horrified and quickly let go of Syaoran's leg to stand as a shield between his sister and her intended target. As uncooperative as his love was being, he would not stand idly by as his sister threatened physical harm – not one hair on his perfect head would be damaged! And then, once the monster had been appropriately dealt with, they could  _work_  on their problems…

He stared mutely as an apple sailed over his head to land with a  _thwack_  against his sister's face.

Yukito, meanwhile, skipped happily through the forest, his thoughts firmly and devoutly centered on his dearest love. With each passing moment, he put more and more distance between himself and the brewing storm of insanity he had left to quarrel. He did not hear the hoarse battle cries of his would-be suitors as they squared off, nor the heroic calls for peace and useless flailing of his once-betrothed as they flung themselves at one another.

 

~*~*~

 

Watanuki practically cackled with glee as he arranged the serving bottles and glasses on a tray. The previous day's attempts to return the damned centaur back to human form may have ended in complete and utter failure, but he had seen just the barest hint of despair flitting across the otherwise expressionless centaur's face and that –  _that_ – made the entire tortured experience worthwhile.

  
"Watanuki!"

Yes, that passing grimace had been worth a thousand mornings spent slaving away in this kitchen. He paused, then set the breakfast tray down to dig through the cupboards once more. A few indigestion tablets should add insult to injury…

"Watanuki!"

The cupboard door banged shut as he spun around to face the intruder. "What?"

Mokona bounded up to rest on the counter and frowned deeply. "We asked for the strawberry wine and apricot jam, not the other way around!"

"Oh," Watanuki paused in his arrangement of the indigestion tablets to skip back to the cupboard. He returned a moment later with an enormous bottle and much smaller jar. "Sorry," he practically sang, "Can you take these in for me? I'll just be a second."

"Wow, Watanuki is in a very good mood today," Mokona chuckled as it balanced the liquor bottle over its head, "Yuuko must be right…"

Watanuki spun around. "Right about what?"

"Then again," Mokona continued, "Maybe you've been at the wine already!"

" _Right about what_?"

"Hurry up with the pancakes!" Mokona exclaimed as it bounded out of the kitchen, "We're so hungry!"

"You are ten times more annoying without your counterpart…" Watanuki muttered as he pulled fruits and pastries from the larder. He arranged these on the trays without too much thought – as long as there was wine with breakfast, Yuuko wasn't likely to kick up too much of a fuss – and followed the black ball of fuzz out of the kitchen.

There was a loud commotion emanating from the informal dining room and Watanuki was certain he could hear his name being repeated, even without opening the door. This wasn't generally cause for concern – a human living amongst the fairies  _did_  tend to cause a bit of a stir – but the laughter punctuating the gaps between iterations made his blood run cold. Yuuko was always insistent upon hosting her subjects overnight; he knew full well that the diners taking his name in vain were none other than the conjurers and apothecaries who had failed so spectacularly to relieve him of that irritating centaur just the day before.  _They_  were laughing at  _him_? He considered adding vinegar to the wine…

"Watanuki!" Yuuko's voice rang from beyond the door, "Don't lurk in doorways. It's antisocial."

Grumbling, he pushed through the ornate, swinging doors and stomped over to the table, unloading dishes from his tray as he maneuvered along its edge. Pancakes, eggs, toast, jam…hopefully he hadn't forgotten anything, lest the gluttons send him back for a second trip…

"Why don't you join us, dear?" Yuuko motioned to the empty place-setting as Watanuki set the last of the dishes down, "You've worked so hard this morning."

Watanuki shifted his eyes suspiciously between the place-setting – set smack in the middle of the long table and directly between the apothecaries he'd wished to avoid – and Yuuko. "That's alright, I'll take my breakfast in the kitchen."

"It wasn't a request," Yuuko smiled sweetly as Watanuki nearly dropped his serving tray, "Have a seat, Watanuki."

"But the kitchen-"

"Chii can take care of it," Yuuko interjected before he could finish. She smiled as he prepared to launch into a detailed list of all the incidents that had left him cleaning for days on the other occasions Yuuko's well-meaning, but all-too-often hapless servant girl had been left to "take care of it." "Surely she's learned something from you these past few years…?"

"Of  _course_  she has, but-"

"Then  _sit_."

There was nothing for it – Watanuki set the tray on the sideboard and pulled the ridiculously ornamented chair out, siddling in as unobtrusively between the smirking fairies as he could.

"Pass me that ashtray, boy," Saiga instructed as Watanuki settled in. Watanuki frowned and groped for the glass tray just beyond his reach, coughing and blowing the smoke that wafted from Saiga's lit cigarette away from his face. He couldn't help but notice that the two apothecaries were still smirking at him; Saiga from behind his sunglasses and Kakei leering more obviously over his cup of tea. The conjurers were staring at him from across the table with expressions that were probably best described as "pitying." Watanuki swallowed thickly as he passed the ashtray to his left and sank back into his chair.

"Now," Yuuko folded her hands and leaned menacingly over the table, "It seems we have somewhat of a problem on our hands."

"Oh?" Watanuki was fairly certain he didn't want to know any more details, but decided this somewhat choked response was better than silence.

"Indeed," Yuuko grinned, "It would appear that none of our known spells and potions are able to change poor Mr. Doumeki back to his human form."

"Have you considered that he's probably a lying freeloader who was never human to begin with?" Watanuki spat before his mind caught up with his mouth.

"Watanuki," Yuuko continued patiently, "Please remember that I  _am_  the Queen, no matter how casual our acquaintance may be. Just because I don't study magics the way these gentlemen do doesn't mean I'm not able to recognize a curse when I see it. I'm quite put out that you would suggest otherwise."

Watanuki sighed as her face twisted into a pout. "Okay…" he relented, "So what does this have to do with me?"

"Well, as Kakei pointed out yesterday, there is a well-known counter-spell."

"So why haven't you used it?"

Yuuko smiled. "We can't. This counter-spell can only be performed by a human."

Watanuki stared expectantly, then sank back into himself as all eyes around the table focused on him. "I can't do magic…" he mumbled.

"It's more of an unlocking mechanism than a real spell," Kakei supplied from his side, "Almost entirely physical in nature."

"Physical…?"

"Yeah," Saiga grinned, "All you need to do is kiss him."

" _What?_ " Watanuki spluttered, "That's the  _stupidest_ \- What is this, some sort of dumbass fairytale?  _Find someone else!_ " Of course it would be something ridiculous like this. His employer did, after all, keep one pet whose kiss was capable of reducing the most notorious of stoics into lovesick fools and another whose…he shuddered. It was probably best not to mention either of them, lest she get any  _more_  ideas.

"Oh come now," Saiga guffawed, "We've all  _seen_  your garden fountains. Don't play like humans aren't into that kind of thing!"

"It's not  _stupid_ , Watanuki," Yuuko admonished, "It's quite clever, actually. You see, as a centaur, Doumeki is practically invisible to humans. How do you suggest going about kissing someone who can't even acknowledge your presence?"

"I can see him just fine-"

"Of course  _you_  can," Yuuko chuckled, "Surely you've noticed that there aren't exactly a lot of humans running around here, though. It takes an exceptional human to even be aware of, much less  _interact_  with forest spirits; you're very special. A fairy might be able to make themselves known to humans with a considerable amount of effort, but a centaur… And a centaur so new to our world certainly doesn't stand a chance."

Watanuki grimaced. He had always imagined that being  _special_  entailed something slightly more exciting than having to defile his lips against an over-grown manure mill. He sighed, "I suppose you're just going to order me to, anyway…"

"Not at all," Yuuko assured him, "It has to be done willingly to work properly. If I were order you to kiss him, you'd just have to do it again and again until you  _wanted_  to," she paused to sip her tea, "As amusing as that might be, I think it would get in the way of your normal duties."

"Alright so, what am I here for?" Watanuki asked hesitantly.

"We feel it's best that you develop a relationship with Doumeki," Kakei explained, "So that, in time, you might be willing to help him break the curse."

" _Wh_ -"

"This part  _is_  an order, Watanuki," Yuuko practically sang as she cut him off, "From today onward, Doumeki will be your apprentice, assisting you with your chores and sharing your living space. You get along so well with the rest of my servants that I'm sure the two of you will form a close friendship in no time."

Watanuki stared in horror. What did she mean  _sharing his living space?_  And the beast was so huge it was sure to knock over more furniture than it tidied in the course of sharing his chores… Why was he being punished? He'd been nothing but a loyal servant to Her Highness from the moment she'd taken him in. He'd worked tirelessly to uphold his end of their contract so that one day he might regain his lost memories. And now  _this_?

"You're so quiet, Watanuki," Yuuko observed as she began passing the breakfast dishes around the table. "Are you so horribly opposed?"

"I…" he managed to control the urge to yell and wave his arms and instead focused all his energy into bolting to his feet and-

He was held fast by the apothecaries on either side of him. Yuuko clucked her tongue from across the table. "Two weeks," she said over her tea cup, "That's all I ask of you."

Watanuki sighed. Two weeks was a long while to spend alongside a reeking half-horse who rarely spoke – hadn't through this entire conversation, Watanuki noted and tucked away for future annoyance – and only occasionally changed its facial expression. Still, in the grand scheme of things…

"Alright," he muttered, defeated, "Two weeks. And that's it."

"That's a good boy," Yuuko praised, lifting her glass, "Now, let's drink to-"

There was a loud clatter from the kitchen; the tinkling of shattered glass across the stone floor and the hollow  _bong_  of a kettle leaping from the counter.

Yuuko smiled, "-To your first assignment as a duo: cleaning up Chii's mess in the kitchen."

 

~*~*~

 

Kurogane stared. There was no justice in this world. Or mercy, for that matter. If either existed, he was fairly certain that he would not be standing here, in the middle of the woods – next to a man who had ruined his life, but for some reason he was not allowed to properly throttle – watching a couple of half-grown humans who had, until recently, been so utterly devoted to the other that they were willing to tear apart their families and defy their countries for the sake of their love, attempt to thrash one another to death with switches pulled from pine trees.

The one in the dress – obviously one of Tomoyo's creations, he noted with a hint of sympathy for the girl – was proving exceptionally brutal.

"What a bunch of frickin' idiots."

"Oh come on now, Kuro-sama," Fay chided, "Don't you think this situation calls for a bit more eloquence?"

"No."

"Fay is right!" Mokona chirped from its perch on Fay's shoulder, "The line is 'Lord, what fools these mortals be!'"

Kurogane grunted and sneered at the diminutive puff ball. "Idiots should be called idiots."

"And Kuro-puu should make an effort to sound like something other than a backwater, whiskey-swilling faun!"

Kurogane snatched Mokona up by the ears and held her just inches from his face as he seethed. "And who's piss poor idea was it to just leave them all alone in the forest, anyway?" he jogged her up and down for emphasis, "I'm not taking  _any_  advice from an over-stuffed manjuu."

"Kuro-pon," Fay set his hand under Mokona and lifted her away as she squealed in protest, "Don't be cruel."

" _Cruel_?" Kurogane roared, "You two have fucked up absolutely everything since we began this little mission! What do you want, a cookie?"

"Mokona wants a coo-"

Fay quickly clapped a hand over Mokona's mouth before she could finish. "Kuro-sama," he said, all former traces of joking gone from his voice, "Let's not kill off our incredibly important plot device, okay? We need her to fix this."  
  
Kurogane scoffed and turned away. "Whatever," he grumbled, trudging forward to keep up with their brawling targets, "Let's just keep an eye on them. We can knock them out later if it comes to that…"

"Kuro-puu is such a brute!" Mokona squealed and buried herself into Fay's neck.

"I swear to god, manjuu, I will-"

"Kuro-sama," Fay cut him off quickly, stopping dead in his tracks.

" _What_?"

Fay gulped audibly before continuing, "The silver haired one…"

"What about him?"

"Well…" Fay bit his lip, "Where is he?"

"What do you mean 'Where is he?' He's  _right_ -" Kurogane stared at the flying foliage and dust clouds. He counted; one, two, three… " _Shit_."

"I'll go find him," Fay said quickly, "You keep an eye on these three-"

" _I'm_  going," Kurogane snarled, "We already know where these three are, so  _you_  stay here and keep an eye on them. Should be an easy enough task even for  _you_ , manjuu."

"Kuro-rin…"

"Don't  _Kuro-rin_  me," Kurogane snapped as he stomped away, "Just don't  _lose_  them!"

Fay frowned as his surly companion disappeared into the foliage. Mokona snuggled comfortingly into his neck. "Don't worry," she said, "We'll fix it. And then Kuro-puu can be happy!"

"Yes…" Fay nodded and straightened his back. Kuro-puu  _would_  be happy. And that was the most important thing, wasn't it?

"…Fay?"

Fay shook his head quickly; the cool air flowing across his face snapped him back into the present. He turned quickly to face his shoulder. "Yes, Mokona?"

"Mokona will go get help."

Fay cringed; he knew very well that price for whatever help Mokona brought back would be more than Kurogane was willing to pay, but he was also acutely aware that mistakes were no longer an option. "Help," or whatever the little fuzz ball's definition of such entailed, would at least give them better odds… "I'll pay," he decided quickly, "Kurogane doesn't need to know."

Mokona smiled and bounded to rest in Fay's hands. "No payment needed," it declared, "I'm not Yuuko, and besides, he really likes getting out."

"Who does?" Fay wondered as Mokona skipped to the ground and bounced away into the trees.

"A friend!" Mokona assured him as she disappeared.

Fay was left staring into the empty space where Mokona had been only seconds earlier. He hoped Mokona knew what she was doing.

Living with Kurogane was undoubtedly having an effect on him…

 

~*~*~

 

"Oi."

" _My name is not 'Oi!_ '" Watanuki repeated for the umpteenth time this morning.

"Oi, Not-Oi – where does this go?" Doumeki held up a copper-bottomed skillet, still dripping with soap suds.

Watanuki seethed and glanced over his shoulder. "Over on th-  _You have to rinse it first, dumbass!_ " He leapt across the kitchen to snatch the pan away and dunk in the rinsing bin. "Are you completely inept?"

Doumeki blinked. "I was going to," he said flatly, taking the pan back and toweling it dry, "I just wanted to know where it goes."

Watanuki exhaled deeply. "Over there on the rack," he pointed as he shuffled back to the pile of glass shards he'd been sweeping. The centaur was decidedly worse when it was speaking, he decided. Not that it spoke much, mind you, but the stream of dead-pan sarcasm punctuated with repeated  _Oi-_ s when it  _did_  was more aggravating than the blank stare it kept on its face the rest of the time. Never before had he witnessed nonchalance radiated with such absolute – and annoying – consistency.

Two weeks was going to be an eternity…

"Look," Doumeki's voice broke through his inner grumblelogue, "It's not like it's that big of a deal, right? It's just a kiss, so let's do it and get it over with."

"Ha!" Watanuki scoffed, "You probably get off on stuff like this. After two weeks is up, you can go gallop through the forest for the rest of eternity for all I care. I'm just being gracious to Yuuko until then."

"Hmm."

"What?" Watanuki demanded. He dumped a dustpan full of glass shards into the trash bin and stormed back over to stare the centaur in the face. "What are you  _hmming_ about?"

Doumeki shrugged. "If you hate me so much, you could just do it now and I'd be out of your hair that much sooner."

"You'd love that, wouldn't you," Watanuki stomped toward the entrance. "I don't kiss creeps!" he shouted back over his shoulder as he banged through the doorway.

"Watanuki is chaste!" Mokona's voice rang from down the hall.

"Shut up,  _manjuu_!"

"He only kisses his pillow!"

"I said  _shut up_!"

"Late at night when he thinks no one is watching!"

Doumeki sighed and continued drying the dishes as Watanuki disappeared down the hallway, the loud thuds trailing behind him the only evidence that Mokona had once again gotten the better of the boy. His prospects for returning home seemed to be growing ever dimmer.

 

~*~*~

 

The sun was drifting low on the horizon, its last few rays meandering uselessly through the think canopy overhead, as Kurogane tramped through the underbrush. He was exhausted; this forest was supposedly rife with enchantments and wards to keep humans from wandering too far off the beaten path, but the silver-haired interloper seemed to evade him no matter which tack he took.

He settled down atop a large rock to pick the twigs and grit from his hooves. He hoped Fay had been able to keep an eye on the rest of the party and that he'd have enough wits about him to subdue them if their brawl got any more out of hand. He could only imagine the consequences if one of them decided to take their death threats to a more literal level…

He growled. Humans were such simple, stupid creatures. In fairness, he had only ever interacted with the one (and while he was being fair; she wasn't  _entirely_  human anyway), but seeing them scurry around the palace during his shifts, laughing like idiots and congratulating themselves on being such a superior species had always left a foul taste in his mouth. This little endeavor wasn't doing much to improve his opinion.

He sighed and got back to his feet. There was no point in lazing around here any longer. He'd search the whole night through if he had to.

 

~*~*~

 

Yukito stepped lightly over the twig-laden ground – he could hear voices nearby and didn't want to draw attention to himself. He'd rounded back on the quarrelsome trio several times since he had set off in pursuit of his lady love (he wasn't entirely sure  _how_  or  _why_ ; he'd followed the sun which, by all current astronomical projections, rose in the east and traveled a straight line into the west and did  _not_  go in the the circular paths his current trek might have suggested), but had each time manage to evade notice by quieting his steps and slowing his breath.

This time was the exception to the rule, it seemed. He stepped carefully, but a loud  _CRACK_  echoed from between his toes; he jumped back, hopeful that no one else would hear…

He found himself sprawled across the ground only moments later, the victim of an unseen and surprisingly fuzzy attacker. Or,  _attackers_ ; he was fairly certain there were two of them, and they were  _small_  – much smaller than the strength of the blows they landed would have suggested. His mind raced as they quickly subdued him – he was well versed in the lore of Cephiro Forest and could only imagine the sort of demons these miniscule terrors these must be. Or maybe rogue fairies, hell bent on stealing his virginity…

He crossed his legs and threw himself into the struggle, but quickly found it was worthless.

The last thing he saw before the world went dark was two large eyes peeking through a mess of white fur, and a loud " _Mekkyo_!" rang through his ears.

 

~*~*~

 

Fay balked at the sight of the tied up party and quickly shifted his gaze between Mokona and the little black friend she had brought back with her. It had taken them most of the night to subdue the squabbling trio and locate the errant fiancé, but now, with dawn peaking through the leaves, they had finally assembled all the players. His only concern now was that they would wake after the consummate thrashing they'd received at the Mokonas' hands – er,  _paws_. "You two certainly did a, um, thorough job…"

"Mokonas always do the best job!" the white one squeaked indignantly and hopped from sleeping head to sleeping head.

"Of course they do," Fay patted her on the head and regarded the tangled mess of bodies, "Well, I suppose it's best to leave them somewhat tied…" he paused thoughtfully, "How did you move them all over here?"

"Like this!" the black Mokona stretched its mouth impossibly wide and inhaled. Fay's eyes grew nearly as wide as he watched the humans were lifted from their resting spots and unceremoniously sucked into its depths.

" _Waa-aa-aa_ ," he breathed, "That's…handy…"

"Mokona is very useful!"

"I'll say," Fay agreed, "They do come  _back_ , right?"

"Oh yeah," the black Mokona grinned, "Where do you want them?"

Fay paused, surveying the patch of forest surrounding them. "How about the older two over there," he pointed, "And the younger ones over there, on the other side of the brush pile. That way they're far enough apart that there can't be any mix ups."

"Right!" the black Mokona chirped and spat the couples out in Fay's designated locations.  
Fay cringed as they collided rather roughly with the forest floor. "Are they going to be okay?"

"Sure!" the white Mokona sang, bouncing over to the older pair, "A kiss from Mokona makes everything better!"

"Wait," Fay caught her mid-bounce. This was likely their last opportunity to make this work; he wasn't about to take any chances. "We're going to tie them together first-"

"Mokona is an expert at shibari!"

"That's not  _quite_  what I had in mind," Fay chuckled, "But the knots will come in handy. Help me tie them face to face…and maybe to the tree so they can't move too much without opening their eyes…" he watched in wonder as the two Mokonas bounded back and forth with a length of rope, securing the humans to one another and to their surroundings, and producing a rather aesthetically pleasing harness in the process. "Wow, you really are an expert…"

"Told you!" the black Mokona grinned, "And now for the kissing…"

Fay let them go about their business unchecked, having seen quite enough the last time around. From the corner of his eye, he saw the white Mokona scamper over to the younger couple alone. "You're not going to kiss them too?" he asked the black one.

"No…"

"Why not? I thought you two loved this sort of thing?"

"We do!" the black Mokona screwed up his face (as much as he was able), "It's just…they look like minors."

"What does that have to do with-"

"All done!" the white Mokona announced, bounding back to rest on Fay's shoulder. "Now all we need to do is wake them up," she paused, "Should we wait for Kuro-puu?"

Fay considered this. It might be easiest just to wake them now, and besides which… "No," he said finally, "We'll wake them now. And then I will take you two back to Yuuko and thank her personally."

The white Mokona frowned. "But what about Kuro-puu?"

"He'll be fine," Fay assured her and scratched her ears, "Now, let's do this."

"Okay!" the black Mokona exclaimed, jumping atop a low-hanging branch and opening his eyes wide, "Everybody cover your ears!"

  


 **  
 _  
MEKKYO-YO-YO-YO  
_  
**

  


Kurogane crouched, covering his ears and nearly losing his footing as the piercing call rang through the forest. What the hell

  _was_  that? The screech was bad enough on its own; the ethereal laughter ringing after it was making him dizzy. He stumbled forward a few steps, trying to clear his head and finding it almost impossible. His knees kept hyper-extending, his feet felt six times too big and banged clumsily against the ground. He pitched forward and sprawled gracelessly across the ground. What the hell was going on? There was something more than just the ricocheting scream of some wild animal banging around his consciousness; his fingers felt fuzzy and his  _horns_ …  


Whatever it was, he was going to have to pick himself up from the ground to do anything about it, and that in and of itself was proving to be more of a feat than he was prepared for. He stopped struggling long enough to catch his breath. There was something horribly familiar about all of this, he decided as he fought to open his eyelids, which had suddenly and miraculously become stuck to their lower counterparts. Something  _horribly_  familiar


	6. Chapter 6

_My lord, I shall reply amazedly,_ _  
_ _Half sleep, half waking: but as yet, I swear,_ _  
_ _I cannot truly say how I came here;_

-

 _My Oberon! what visions have I seen!_  
 _Methought I was enamour'd of an ass._

 _-A Midsummer Night's Dream IV;i_

 

Sakura woke with a start. Her ears rang with the screeching, inhuman howl of some wild beast lurking in the shadows of the forest. Her heart raced in her ears; there was something very important that she needed to do. Someone, somewhere…

No, that couldn't be right.

Her eyes fixed on Syaoran and she bit back a laugh. He was gaping back at her, his delightfully full cheeks flushed and pulled back into a shocked half-grin, his ever-so-slightly-off-center nose wrinkled so adorably in consternation… _hanyan_! She'd never noticed before how dreamy his eyes were when pulled so  _wide_! It was almost like…almost like…

She blinked, forcing herself out of her daze and pushing away any lingering thoughts of limpid pools and sparkling amber. "Syaoran, are you alright?" she managed.

"I-" Syaoran sputtered, eyes stretching impossibly wider, "It's just-" He yanked his hands up between them.

Hers came with. "Oh," Sakura murmured, eying the intricate latticework of cord that looped around their wrists, their ankles, their waists... "What happened?" A thought occurred to her, "Di- _did my brother find us?"_

"I don't know…" Syaoran trailed off. He hadn't seen any sign of Lord Touya, or anyone else for that matter, and he certainly doubted the big lug's ability to tie such intricate knots with enough delicacy to avoid waking either he or Sakura in the process. He scoured their immediate surroundings for any signs of their captors, or possibly something sharp to cut their bindings… "Sakura," he said suddenly, jerking both of them up into a sitting position, "There's a knife in my boot. If I can just-" His voice dried up as Sakura toppled against him, her face buried in his neck as he stretched their hands toward his feet. Just a little farther…

Sakura fell happily back into her daze, despite the blood burning in her cheeks. Syaoran smelled of musky cologne (probably a gift from Tomoyo, she noted with a pang of guilt) tinged with smoke from their fire and apples…

Well, the apple scent explained the strange nightmare she'd had, at any rate.  _Chasing around Yukito and assaulting Syaoran with fruit and pine switches…_  She flushed deeper and bit her lip; she hoped she hadn't been talking in her sleep.

"Sakura?"

"Huh?" she lifted her head quickly from Syaoran's shoulder to find him stripping away the last of the rope, his small knife gleaming in his hand.

Syaoran smiled warmly and helped her to her feet, holding her fingers with his own just a bit longer than was absolutely necessary before remembering himself and backing away quickly. "I'm sorry – I…" he scratched nervously at his neck.

"Syaoran, really," Sakura half murmured. He was going to have to move past some of his shyness if they were going to be wed. So was she, for that matter – the mere thought sent a chill down her spine and heat to her face. She moved to take his hand once again and froze.  _Everything_  hurt. She craned her neck painfully to examine her arms and legs; there was barely an inch left unscathed – even her knuckles were bruised. "What in the world?" she wondered.

"I don't know," Syaoran answered honestly, gingerly flexing and extending his fingers. "I didn't wake up at all – I had the craziest nightmares, though."

"Me, too," Sakura confessed, debating whether she should continue. After a moment's pause, she decided that honesty was the cornerstone of any relationship and, furthermore, might break down some of the flustered embarrassment that seemed to tear at them so frequently. Or would it? She could never tell; everything was always so much more confusing when the blood rushed to her head like this. Up was down, right was left, and Syaoran was Yukito…

"Sakura?"

"I dreamt that we were fighting over Yukito. With apples and tree branches." She finally blurted, then quickly slapped her hands over her mouth in a vain effort to force the words back insdie.

Syaoran stared back at her, eyebrows furrowing in disbelief. Sakura swallowed thickly and took a step backward.

"I dreamt the same…" Syaoran finally admitted. Sakura, however, had time neither to be shocked nor relieved as he quickly snatched her hand and headed away from their makeshift bed of dry brush and rope cuttings. "We need to leave here. Whoever –  _whatever_  – tied us up might still be around. We need to find our way to Outo and then-"

"Wait!" Sakura pulled her hand back, "Do you hear that?"

Syaoran listened closely. It was faint, but there was a soft rustling sound from their left and if he really strained he could make out… _groaning?_ He tightened his grip on Sakura's hand and started forward again, "We really have to go! If we're found-"

"But it sounds like someone is in pain!" Sakura insisted, pulling back once again and staggering toward the sounds, "Please, Syaoran, we can't leave th-"

"Sakura!" Syaoran sprinted quickly to the thick trunk where Sakura had stopped to steady herself. "What's wrong?" he gasped. Her face was as pale as a bed sheet and twisted into a macabre caricature almost beyond recognition. "Sakura!"

"It's…" she sobbed and collapsed against his chest, relieved when his arms wrapped around to support her.

"It's what?" Syaoran seated her quickly on the ground and set about checking over her wounds. They didn't appear too serious, but she wasn't making sense – he could have sworn he had just heard her mumble  _"Worse than a garden fountain."_ "What's worse than what?" he tried again. He tilted her head to back to meet her eyes. She wasn't crying – if he didn't know better, he'd say she was horribly embarrassed, what with the wide eyes and impossibly pink face. He followed her previous line of sight and felt his jaw fall slack.

"Oh for…" He stood up, but Sakura caught his hand.

"How did they get here?" Sakura hissed, pulling him back down and behind the trunk, "They must have followed us!"

"I don't know," Syaoran grumbled, his mood now thoroughly ruined. Who did that kind of thing in public? It wasn't fit for alley cats, let alone a lord of Touya's stature… "Let's hurry and leave, before they see us."

"But, Syaoran – they're tied up, too! We can't leave them."

"They're  _what_?" There was no way.  _No way._  Not after what he'd just witnessed.

"They're tied up!" Sakura insisted, "We can't go – no, I  _won't_  go!"

"But  _they're_ …!"

"I know, but," Sakura paused to gather her wits, "This is really a strange morning. We woke up tied together, and had the same dream, and now Touya and Yukito are here. We have to do… _something_!"

"But  _they're_ …!" Syaoran stammered, steadfastly refusing to look away from Sakura. He shuddered, "How are they even-"

"Please don't," Sakura choked, shaking her head.

"Sorry…" Syaoran ran hand through his hair and sat back down. "Alright, we'll take them with us. But we should really move away from here quickly…" he trailed off, not liking the implications of this statement.

"Thank you," Sakura inched closer to rest her head against his shoulder, "…Would you…?"

" _Me?_ "

"It's just…"

"But I…"

They sat in silence for a long moment before Syaoran cleared his throat. This was no time to wallow in the dregs of childish impotence. Now was the moment to strike out on his honor, to call forth his steeled reserves of courage and display his valor before his lady, to prove once and for all that he was a  _man_ …

"How about we draw straws?"

>  


~*~*~

  


" _ACHOO!"_

The force of his sneeze startled Kurogane back to consciousness. Damned allergies – he'd probably gotten that fuzzball's dander mussed into his fur and was going to spend the next however-long in mucus-dripping misery until he could get a bath.

What the hell was he doing here? Dozing off mid-hunt wasn't his style, and moreover, he certainly wouldn't have chosen a pile of dirt for a pillow – no matter how short his intended nap. He wiped angrily at the side of his face and moved to scratch his fingers through his fur.

"Nyga!" He winced at the introduction of sharp nail to bare skin.  _What in the…?_

He stared. It was  _gone_! Every single last strand of that damnable, lamentable, devil's pelage was  _gone_! His legs were unusually pale, having not seen the sun in ages, but that was fine – he could work with that…  _The hooves!_  He wiggled his toes –  _five of them!_  – in front of his face, not quite believing his luck.

 _And if the fur and hooves were gone…_

He groped blindly at his back – stll afraid to look, lest it might be a dream – and felt his expression melt into ecstasy when his fingers connected with a solid, sleek wing. He craned his neck for a better view. There they were, in all of their former glory; black lattice filled with bold red, their edges tapered into familiar sharp peaks and long tails trailing down beyond his knees.

"Heh," he snorted, stifling the primeval instinct that insisted he let loose with an earth-splitting cackle of joy. He flexed his back, worried the years of disuse might have weakened his muscles. It was an unfounded worry, however (they may have been weaker, but they still  _worked_ , dammit), and his heart raced with the light breeze brushing across his sides from the flutter of his wings. He was in the air a moment later, unable to restrain himself any longer.

He soared high above the treetops – altitude restrictions be damned, he'd just spent six years earthbound and he was going as high as he damn well pleased – basking in the familiar comfort of the scenery below him. The wind whipped through his hair, tugging and yanking the unruly strands in all directions and slapping the fringe against his forehead; he wasn't sure anything had ever felt as marvelous. He circled, dived, dipped, all the while clutching uselessly at the breeze coiling around his fingers, teasing up his arms, and encircling his trunk.  
 _  
The idiot had done it!_  Kurogane had no idea  _how_  or  _when_ , but he'd  _done_  it! After all the strife they'd been through, all the bollocksed, half-witted, half-failed attempts these past few days, he'd finally succeeded. He was so unabashedly grateful to and proud of the fool that he had little trouble stamping down his own guilt at proving essentially useless throughout the entire endeavor. He'd make it up to Fay – dinner was on him tonight, and he was willing to shell out the last of his savings to let the idiot get as stinking, slobbering drunk as he liked. Scratch that;  _he_  was getting stinking drunk, too. And in the morning (or possibly afternoon, considering), he could go to see about getting his job back.

He fluttered down to rest on a large bough and collect his thoughts. He had to  _find_  Fay first, and then return that little puffball to Her Majesty. And then –

A sharp whistle interrupted his thoughts and he leaned forward to glare at the intruder below. Predictably, it was nothing more than a gaggle of wood nymphs, paused mid-step in one of their ridiculous ballets. He sneered – he didn't have time for their foolishness this morning – but was only met with gaping and giggles. Whatever, he didn't need thi-

Blushing furiously, he grabbed a fistful of leaves from a nearby stalk and shuffled them into his lap.  
 _  
First things first, then._  He would return to his old home, find some clothes, and  _then_  set about finding Fay.  


~*~*~

  


Watanuki pinched the bridge of his nose as he stirred his tea with all the concentration of a chessmaster and grace of a drunkard. He watched in fascination as the droplets bounced over the rim to splatter against the intricately woven tablecloth, the dark splotches seeping and spreading into abstract patterns…

"Oi."

God, but it was fascinating. He'd have to try this later with green tea and possibly a yellow linen. He wondered if the tea would seep into the folds at the same rate, if a different surface tension in the green tea might spread the droplets wider to create different designs…

"Oi."

Laboriously, Watanuki peeled his eyes away from his table-top artwork to glower at his tea-time companion. Or, as Yuuko had so recently demanded, his  _constant_  companion, which was currently waggling its tea cup back and forth and staring meaningfully at Watanuki. "What?" he demanded, scowling at the monstrosity. Today it was a garish shade of blue, too bold to be called "sky," too bright to resemble the ocean, and too obnoxious to be anything less than one of Kakei's misguided experiments. He had to wonder if the centaur's agreement to participate in Kakei's often pointless, occasionally dangerous experimental machinations in return for room and board was really a fair price. Sure, it kept the over-enthusiastic fairy out of Yuuko's hair and, more importantly,  _occupied_  enough to prevent any further "accidents" within the palace, but  _really;_  the day-glo color selections were putting Watanuki off his food, no matter how entertaining they might be for the first few minutes after transformation.

At least this latest shade didn't come with the unfortunate gastric side-effects of the pink.

"Tea."

Watanuki gaped for a moment, trying to parse exactly what it was trying to say. They certainly were drinking tea... It was even waggling its teacup as if to announce it wanted  _more_ tea…

Watanuki growled low in his throat and screwed his face into a snarl. "Get it yourself!"

"Can't." The centaur indicated the teapot just beyond his reach.

"Just get-" Watanuki sucked in a deep breath as the centaur shifted his bulk against the table and rattled the flatware as he stretched demonstratively for the pot. " _I am not your servant!_ " Speaking of servants, surely one of Yuuko's minions must be somewhere nearby to serve the tea…

He cringed. No,  _of course_  not. Yuuko had ordered everyone to stay away while he and the centaur "enjoyed their late-afternoon bonding exercise," or something equally humiliating. To coax Watanuki into reluctant compliance in this matter, she had personally overseen the set-up of an exquisite tea-time spread. To ensure their full enjoyment of the banquet, she had dead-bolted the door. Watanuki sighed as he got to his feet and wordlessly snatched the teapot from its resting spot amongst the china. "Just say when…" he mumbled as he filled the centaur's cup.

Yuuko frowned from her perch just beyond the wall of the dining hall. Magic swirled against the plaster, creating a small window through which she observed the decidedly tense scene playing out on the other side. Piles of books cluttered the floor at her feet, detailing human mating strategies, offering suggestions for productive interpersonal relations, and announcing 101 ways to set stimulating mood lighting. She closed the window as the lighter of her pets crawled into her lap.

"They're not doing very well, are they?" Mokona asked quietly.

Yuuko scratched her long white ears. "No," she said slowly, "I suppose they're not. But, with a little time…"

"Mokona could kiss him!"

Yuuko laughed at this and picked Mokona up to speak at face level. "I don't think that will be necessary. Besides, don't you think enough problems have been caused by that?" she lifted her eyebrow with a teasing smirk.

Mokona's ears drooped. "But Mokona thought…"

"It's all right," Yuuko soothed, "Though the rest of the guard has been complaining again. I'll have to put them back on gate duty by themselves…"

"The black Mokona could kiss him!"

Yuuko chuckled once again, "Yes, I suppose his spell does wear off a bit more quickly than yours does… But, more to the point," she continued, "It's not necessary for these two to fall in love. It's only important that Watanuki form a bond with another human. If they become close, he can break the spell easily and…"

"Yuuko?" Mokona asked after a moment of silence had passed.

Yuuko smiled. "It's important for him to form bonds with humans. He can't stay here forever – his memories aren't returning as I had hoped and without human contact…"

"But he gets along so well with everyone here! Many people love Watanuki!"

Yuuko smiled sadly and resumed stroking Mokona's ears. "He does. But humans aren't meant to live amongst fairies. We're fundamentally incompatible; humans crave grounding and permanence that they'll never find amongst fairies. It always ends in loss and heartbreak…"

"But aren't loss and heartbreak an important part of life?"

Yuuko started, blinking down at Mokona in surprise. "Of course, little one. But eternity is long, and human life is fleeting…" She set Mokona at her feet and gazed steadfastly toward the window.

"Yuuko?"

"We'll just have to call in some experts," she decided, quickly getting to her feet and pacing across the room. "Yes, I think I know just the people…"

~*~*~

  


Touya was in heaven, or some place very much like it. The forest seemed to sparkle, even though the low, late-afternoon sunlight barely trickled down through the leaves and the muddy path did more to absorb the rays than to scatter them. It was warm as well – far warmer than the shaded, damp undergrowth probably should have been, though he supposed much of that was attributable to the massive (and likely unsustainable) vasodilation currently in the process of shepparding every last bit of his blood to rest just below the surface of his skin. His cheeks were hot, his ears thrummed, and his fingers  _throbbed_. This last was likely due to the fact that his wrists were bound together in a sloppy approximation of cuffs, fashioned from what he assumed had once been material from his sister's gown – a momentary flicker of anger floated through his consciousness as he realized that her ankles were very likely bare and exposed for all the world to see – but he found himself completely unable to care and only pressed forward. He could feel Yukito's heart banging against the walls of his chest – faster than his own, if that was possible – as he finally reached his goal, and was only too glad that the tree was there to support them as they toppled into clumsily against its trunk.

Yukito hissed as Touya collapsed against him, the expelled air huffing hot and fast across the nape of Touya's neck and tickling against the fine hairs peeking through his collar. Touya shuddered and latched onto Yukito's lips with his own (This was at least partially a balancing act – he wasn't well equipped at the moment to latch on with anything else. The ends, however, justified the means and Touya was forced to admit that this was far from a disappointing turn of events.). He steadied himself before raking his-

" _Brother_!"

-teeth across Yukito's lower lip and gently nudging the other's chin upward with his nose. His footing regained, he set to work lavishing Yukito's throat with lingering, open-mouthed kisses, tracing his tongue along the sinews of his neck, and finally returning-

"Oh for f-  _not_   _again_!"

-to nip once again at Yukito's lips. Beneath him, Yukito exhaled sharply and pressed closer, chasing Touya's teasing teeth back behind the shelter of his lips, which Yukito quickly took advantage of, sucking greedily at them and swiping his tongue suggestively against their parting. Touya grunted a muffled invitation and smirked as-

"Syaoran –  _do something_!"

-Yukito thrust his tongue between his lips, delving and twisting around Touya's own. Touya rocked against him, straining against the makeshift cuffs and giving into the baser instinct that demanded  _more_  contact,  _more_  groping,  _more_  ravishing, and certainly  _less_  of these horribly obtrusive scraps of fabric keeping him accomplishing the former. He pulled away, ignoring Yukito's gurgled disapproval, and dipped his head lower, lower, until his teeth plucked at the ties fastening Yukito's collar. He tugged sharply, loosening their knots, but nearly losing his footing once again in the process. Undeterred, he lifted one leg to loop around Yukito's waist-

"I'm trying! Oh  _crap_ …"

-and paused, noting a particularly bony lump at Yukito's hip he was positive hadn't been there just the night before. He lifted his head, troubled by this sudden and apparent spread in his advisor's hips and caught the terrified gaze of… Who  _was_  that exactly?  _Oh, yes_. That insufferable brat who wanted to marry his sister… What in the name of all that was holy was he doing tangled up with himself and Yukito like this? It didn't make much in the way of sense, but Touya wasn't particularly in the mood to fight. If the kid wanted in, so be it; he certainly wasn't going to deny that this was an extremely pleasurable configuration they had all wound themselves into. The more, the merrier – wasn't that the saying? He flexed his knee more forcefully, dragging the boy closer and closing the gap between himself and Yukito once again-

" _Touya_!"

The ground seemed to leap up to smash against the side of his head in the next instand and when he next opened his eyes, Touya found the angry face of his sister mere inches from his own. "Sakura?" he sputtered, scanning the area desperately for Yukito. What the hell was Sakura even doing-  _ah!_   _There_  was Yuki, sprawled across the ground next to the brat, rubbing his head. Touya rolled to reach him…

"What is  _wrong_  with you?" Sakura demanded, stamping one foot down between her brother and his fiancé.

Touya squinted back at her in confusion. He was fairly sure that this was the most  _right_  thing he had ever done. Hell, even her fiancée had seemed to agree…

Or perhaps not. The brat had stumbled to his feet and was glaring back at him just as angrily as his sister. Touya couldn't figure out for the life of him what could possibly be upsetting the both of them so badly (in fairness, he might have been more successful had he spared more than three seconds and four neurons for this line of inquiry, but he had more  _immediate_ concerns occupying his higher thought processing centers and couldn't really be bothered), and promptly resumed snaking his way across the ground to Yukito.

"The palace!" Sakura exclaimed, digging her heels into the ground to ensure the over-amorous couple was kept safely apart. She kicked at her brother's shoulder, just for good measure.

"Ow! Monster…" Touya grumbled as he rubbed at his arm, "The palace is so far away… Just let us…for a little while…"

Sakura smacked her forehead and massaged her temples. "No, I mean-" she paused to grin wickedly as Syaoran hefted her brother to his feet by the wrist bindings. She moved to help Yukito to his feet, though she was careful to keep a more firm grip on his arms than she had managed just prior to this terrifically upsetting display of affection. "We're  _here_ ," she finally finished, satisfied that Yukito was not able to break free of her grip and begin the tortured cycle of tongues and testosterone all over again.

Touya blinked. "We are?" he murmured, dumbfounded. He scanned the surroundings quickly and was appropriately surprised to find a group of palace guards staring blankly at them from a short distance. "Oh."

Sakura huffed and bit her lip. "Brother, what in the world-  _Stop that_!" she practically shouted and yanked harshly at Yukito's arms as he attempted to pull away. She gaped helplessly at the guards, all too aware of the flush heating her face for the millionth time this afternoon. "Can you help us?" she begged, " _Please_?"

The leader of the group seemed to consider this for a few seconds longer than Sakura deemed absolutely necessary. With a resigned shrug, he motioned his men toward the struggling group.

~*~*~

  


Kurogane landed silently on the balcony of his long-unoccupied home and tucked his wings carefully behind him. He'd been here only hours earlier to find some clothing suitable for this form (he'd been pleased to find that his old clothes still  _fit_  after all of the cullinary extravagance Fay had foisted on him over the last six years, though the shoulders were a bit saggy from muscle wasting – he'd have to make a point to get back into the habit of six laps around the forest before dawn if he wanted to build them back up in a timely manner), but it seemed no more familiar upon returning than it had when he had first arrived this morning. That had been a rushed venture – he'd flown in, dressed, and flown back out in a matter of minutes – in the name of finding Fay and returning that long-eared rat to its owner as quickly as possible.

In the end, he had found neither. The entire day had been wasted fluttering from one corner of the forest to another, fielding questions about his return from old acquaintances and squelching the urge to smash the faces of the idiots who cast obnoxiously  _knowing_ looks in his direction, but failing to procure any information concerning the whereabouts of his wayward companions. He had decided to return home shortly after nightfall, exhausted and with an aching back. Now he stood, surveying the forest below his doorstep and wondering where in the  _hell_ the two morons could have gotten off to. He desperately hoped they hadn't been stopped by the royal guard for public indecency after the spell had broken (Fay had a penchant for prancing, even as a fairy, and the older generation of harpies could be  _such_  prudes…), or, worse, arrested for breaking altitude restrictions during a rollicking celebration flight… He pushed that thought away; he still wasn't certain that Fay  _would_  celebrate being restored to fairy form and, moreover, the idiot was deathly afraid of heights (a fittingly  _stupid_ fear for an idiot fairy, Kurogane had long ago decided, but at the moment it offered  _some_  solace at least, and he refused to dwell on it).

It was only the rumbling of his stomach that pulled him out of his wandering concerns. Sighing, he pulled open the heavy door and trudged inside. He fumbled for a moment in the darkness, trying to recall just  _where_  he'd left the glo-wicks for his lanterns. Fay had always insisted on keeping them tucked away in the den where they would be protected from the damp that seeped through the doorframe on cold nights, which probably meant…

He found them in the top drawer of the entranceway table. He snorted; the wicks were predictably soggy and required several extra shakes to light, but soon he had a number of them glowing, albeit weakly. He deposited them in several hurricane lanterns scattered around the small entrance, where they reacted reliably with the enchanted glass to throw enough light about the room to allow him to make his way around the sparse furniture without too much difficulty.

There was a thick layer of dust over everything – inevitable, Kurogane supposed, after six years, but annoying nonetheless. He'd have to take care of it in the morning; for now, all he wanted was to scavenge something to eat and head to bed. He stared into the dingy cupboards, nose creeping ever higher in disgust. He should have realized what six years would do, even to dried and preserved foods. Cleaning out the debris would have to be another task for the morning.

He shut the cupboard quickly and stomped over to the pantry, where he hoped against hope that  _something_  might have fared a bit better. Most of the food there  _hadn't_ , but he did manage to locate three corked bottles of brandy that didn't appear too foul. He plucked them from the shelves and set them on the kitchen counter.

He wasn't much in the mood for alcohol, despite his earlier fantasies of drinking himself into a blessed stupor, and left the bottles after a moment's deliberation for bed. It wasn't as if there was any reason for him to stay awake beyond eating, anyway.

His bedroom was much as he had left it, with only a small bed and table for furniture and a lantern hung from the wall that he didn't bother to light. He swiped a hand across the bedding tentatively and was rewarded with a palm full of grime that had settled into the quilts in his absence. He frowned, but decided he didn't really care and collapsed face down into his pillows.

He had been so exhausted when he arrived home that he'd assumed sleep would come quickly, without the tossing and turning and burning eyes he found himself fighting nearly an hour later. The room was too quiet without the sounds of noisy bar patrons eeking through the floorboards, his pillows smelt like someone else, and his own bed seemed foreign. And moreover, there was no drunken snoring or murmured sleep-talk floating around the room for him to set his breathing to. How the hell was he supposed to fall asleep if he-  
 _  
Bollocks_.

He sat up quickly and rubbed mercilessly at his stinging eyes. This was  _not_  how he had anticipated returning home. Everything was supposed to be so much  _better_ here. He wasn't supposed to  _miss_  the obnoxious snoring or the idiots partying until sunup downstairs! He was supposed to melt into the silence, dreamy and content, without a care in the world beyond reestablishing himself…

What the hell had happened to him? Had some part of his soul, some part of his core manliness drifted away, unnoticed, over the past six years? Where had this infantile desire for familiarity  _come_  from? He shuddered; perhaps idiocy was catching. Perhaps years of living in such close quarters with Fay had..  
 _  
Oh to hell with it._  He stumbled out of bed and back into the kitchen, knocking over a stray dining chair he hadn't remembered leaving so close to the doorframe and cursing loudly. He snatched a bottle of brandy from the counter and ripped the cork from its neck with his teeth. If sleep wasn't going to come naturally, he was just going to have to help it along.

He tilted the bottle back. Surely tomorrow would be less trying


	7. Chapter 7

  
  


_But earthlier happy is the rose distilled_   
_Than that which withering on the virgin thorn_   
_Grows, lives, and dies in single blessedness._

 _~A Midsummer Night's Dream, I; i_

* * *

Sakura nibbled at her cranberry tart and stared into the whirling lines of milk quickly assimilating into her tea. The palace pastry chefs had truly outdone themselves with this afternoon's tea – a welcome home party, of sorts, for the wayward guests – but nothing she tried (and she had tried quite a lot in the past hour, much to Tomoyo's delight) seemed to satisfy. Even the sweetest of fillings turned to paste in her mouth and no amount of tea seemed to wake her from her daze.

It had been four days since their utterly humiliating return to the palace. Despite the queen's joyous reception upon their return and announcement to the kingdom that her own wedding would now be shared with the Kinomoto siblings, Sakura had spent the intervening three days locked in her room, too flustered and mortified to face the palace attendants with their sideways glances and muffled snickers; it was only this morning that Tomoyo had finally coaxed her out – or rather, assaulted her in her sleep, stuffed her into a frilly abomination which Sakura was repeatedly assured was a "dress," and hauled her out into the palace proper to be paraded around like a showpiece. Their final excursion into Tomoyo's private rooms for tea had only come after an almost complete meltdown upon catching a glimpse of Syaoran across the courtyard.

She supposed she ought to be finding some solace here, tucked back into a far corner of the palace with her closest friends; she ought to have been grateful to Chiharu – one of her oldest and most dear friends – who had made the journey from Tomoeda Province at Tomoyo's request only the day before, after the Queen's announcement. And yet…

"Sakura…" Tomoyo giggled from behind her teacup.

"Hmm?" Sakura looked up from her twiddling thumbs, suddenly aware both girls were staring at her. "I…"

Chiharu frowned. "This isn't like you. Are you sure you don't want to tell us what happened?"

Sakura flushed several shades brighter and contemplated instructing them to go ask one of the gossipy maids if they were so interested. She choked this back, however, and firmly reminded herself that she was amongst friends, and that the version they were likely to hear from the maids would be many times more embarrassing than the truth. She sighed. "Well-"

"Wait!" Tomoyo jumped up from her seat, "We have something for you!" She quickly darted over to a package near the window and, after several moments of rifling through it, returned to the table with a stuffed, golden lion- _thing_ , complete with sparkly wings, which she presented to Sakura.

Sakura's eyes darted between her two friends, growing shifty as she eyed the plushie. "Y-you brought…Kero-chan?" She stared pleadingly at Tomoyo, begging to know why this particular embarrassment had been hauled out of her luggage on top of everything else.

"Of course!" Tomoyo beamed, thrusting the doll at Sakura as if this were the most natural thing in the world, "Everyone knows it's best to have your most trusted comforts in trying situations! So, tea and cake and Kero-chan it is!"

"O-okay," Sakura gripped the doll tightly in her lap and gaped at her friends. Chiharu had propped herself up against the table, her head leaning heavily against her hand and eyes fixed directly on Sakura. Tomoyo was practically sparkling with anticipation.

And so she told them all about her nightmare journey through the forest. About the useless map and the winding pathways, the strange dreams that had been shared between herself and Syaoran and their mysteriously corresponding injuries the following morning. About her sudden and inexplicable lust for her brother's advisor, how she had been willing to defend him from Syaoran's inexcusable and incomprehensible advances, and how their entire group seemed to have lost the exact amount of time in their travels for all of this to actually have taken place.

She left out the bit about their harrowing journey home and the corresponding details of exactly  _how_  strong her brother could be during bouts of excessive determination…

"Sakura," Chiharu smiled, "It was just a dream! It sounds like a story Yamazaki would tell – he probably put something silly into your and Syaoran's heads before you came here!"

"Oh, I don't know," Tomoyo chuckled, "It sounds to me like fairies were playing pranks on you."

This produced the intended chuckles from all three girls and, for a moment, Sakura felt at peace. Worries about her past and future fidelities melted away and she was left to bask in the serene warmth that comes of being surrounded by friends who accepted and treasured you, no matter how many fiancés you had beaten to a pulp with pine switches only days before.

"So everything is settled now, though – right?" Chiharu prompted, "Your brother has agreed to let you two marry?"

"Well…" Sakura trailed off.

"That's not  _entirely_  settled yet," Tomoyo giggled, "My sister has offered to expand her own wedding celebration to include both Sakura's and her brother's, but we haven't actually been able to get much of a response from Touya…"

"No?" Chiharu raised her eyebrows, "But your message said..."

"Well…" Sakura began again.

"He's been  _occupied_ ," Tomoyo supplied.

"Occupi-  _Oh_ ," Chiharu chuckled, " _That_  must have been what the chamber maids were talking about this morning."

There was a loud  _rip_ , and Sakura was suddenly aware of a mass of fluff spreading across her palms and weaving its way between her fingers. She looked down in horror – there, by her very hands, had the golden head been separated from Kero-chan's over-stuffed body, the filling now spilling out over the torn seams and tumbling in small wisps to the floor. Sakura wibbled, eyes growing wide, " _K-k-kero-chan_!"

"Don't worry," Tomoyo soothed, sweeping around the table to collect the tattered remains of Sakura's favorite childhood toy, "He's easily fixable." She quickly carried the doll and its head back toward the package she had used to store them earlier. "Now," she turned back to her guests, "Let's put away this silly fairy talk for the time being, and just enjoy our tea, alright?"

Tomoyo made her way back to join her friends at the table. There was the requisite chatting and laughter, and she was truly happy to see Sakura relaxing a bit. However, for all of her joking about fairies, there was one in particular who had captured her attention in the moment, standing reclined against the wall just beyond the window dressing with his arms crossed haughtily over his chest. Tomoyo had yet to speak privately with Kurogane since his sudden reappearance the day before (and the subsequent disappearance of her old guard, Kazuhiko), but there was something troubling about his countenance. While he had always been gruff, rude, and occasionally downright hostile in his mannerisms, there was a hint of something else lurking in his stare now – something older, sadder…

She would have to make time to discuss it later.

* * *

Syaoran flipped another coin into the growing pile at the center of the table and glared with determination at his rival, who only smiled calmly and added his own wager.

"Did you know," his rival said cheerfully, "That this game began as a way to settle border disputes in the northern countries?"

Syaoran shook his head and flipped a card down on the table.  _Damn it!_  Not only did it match the card just played, it was his only ace, and if his losing streak continued, he'd be out his only trump card… He cursed himself silently for taking Yamazaki up on his offer of friendly gambling – their games  _always_  ended like this! Still, Syaoran supposed he was glad for the company as Sakura had taken to her rooms for days on end, and Yamazaki had traveled quite far to be here (though that was probably more for Chiharu's sake than his own – he didn't harbor any illusions of rating higher than Yamazaki's long-time girlfriend), and so he flipped the next three cards in his hand face down on top of the ace.

"Oh, it's true!" Yamazaki continued, laying his own cards on the table, "It's saved quite a number of lives in the past. Of course, that was before they invented the roulette wheel. Now most border disputes are settled with that. Or with marbles," he looked up at Syaoran, his eyes folded into happy little half-cresents and a gigantic smile plastered across his face, "But you know, this was just supposed to help you win a little extra money for your honeymoon. That's not going to happen if I keep winning all your cards."

Syaoran sighed. He really didn't care to be reminded of his impending, though not-quite-officially-approved marriage at the moment. Not when Sakura hadn't left her rooms in days. Not when he still hadn't been able to make heads nor tails of just  _what_  had gone on while they were lost in the woods. And certainly  _not_  while he was still having the occasional flash of Yukito's impeccably formed posterior jaunting lustily through his brain…

He shook this off and slapped his final card down.  _No_. He didn't need to be thinking about that right now. Although it was quite… _luscious_ …

"I win!" Yamazaki declared, laying his final card on the table.

Syaoran eyed Yamazaki's card pile; a king, which handily beat the queen he himself had just laid down. Which meant that he was also going to lose his ace and whatever else was in his pile, and it was all just so damned perfect-

"Wow, Syaoran, you look terrible," Yamazaki chided, sweeping Syaoran's cards over to himself, "It's just a game, you know?"

"It's," Syaoran searched for the words and sighed when they wouldn't be found, "It's not that. It's just…"

"Are you nervous?" Yamazaki prompted, "Worried about the wedding?"

"Well," Syaoran mumbled, "Maybe a little. Cold feet, I guess."

"Oh," Yamazaki's voice had suddenly taken on a very  _knowing_  tone and he crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, "I see. You know, the phrase 'cold feet' refers to the practice of icing the groom's feet before the wedding so that they would be too numb to run away from the altar. So, it's probably a pretty normal emotion."

Syaoran gulped. "Iced their feet?"

"Oh, yes!" Yamazaki continued, "Instead of holding a bachelor party, it used to be a tradition for the groomsmen to head out into the mountains to collect ice and snow the night before the wedding. Then in the morning, the groom himself would have to stand in buckets filled with the ice while the wedding party shoveled more in at half-past every hour until he could no longer feel his toes."

"But," Syaoran balked, "How did they  _walk_  afterward?"

"Well, they had better shoes back then, of course," Yamazaki replied, shuffling his pile of cards, "You have to understand, this was a vast improvement over the even older tradition of dragging the groom down the aisle bound and gagged-"

" _Bound and gagged_?" Syaoran didn't think this was really applicable to himself. He  _wanted_  to marry Sakura, after all. Didn't he?

"Well, you have to do something about the kicking and screaming, don't you?" Yamazaki said thoughtfully, "Speaking of which, did you know that the phrase 'ball and chain' comes from the ancient custom of exchanging eyes instead of rings?"

" _Wha_ -"

"It's true!" Yamazaki quickly cut off Syaoran's protests, "Couples used to pluck out their left eyeballs and shellac them! Usually they would link them to gold chains to exchange at the actual wedding ceremony. Really wealthy people got a bit more extravagant, of course, attaching gemstones and occasionally even gold leaf filigree – you used to see some really fine examples on display at the bigger museums, but they took down most of the displays because they were disturbing children."

Syaoran stared.

"The practice itself can be traced back to Lord Kokuyo in the early Dark Ages. It sort of fell out of popularity once the enlightenment came along, though, and people started using their eyes to see…"

Syaoran was (thankfully) spared from any further commentary from Yamazaki by a knock at the door. He called for them to enter, and was greeted by one of the many palace servants, who announced a visitor specifically to see him. Syaoran sat a bit straighter in his seat – had Sakura finally decided to venture out of her rooms?

His disappointment at the appearance of a dark haired man in the doorframe seconds later quickly faded to shock as recognition set in. Syaoran needed a moment to be certain of himself; here was a man he had not seen in years, a man whose absence had been long enough and mysterious enough to have caused all manner of problems for the Li family in general, and Syaoran's engagement in particular. The youthful kindness in the man's eyes had not grown dim, Syaoran was only too happy to note, though he had clearly grown out of adolescence since their last meeting.

Syaoran floundered, trying to parse an appropriate greeting, but in the end was only to wave weakly and mumble, "… _Brother_?"

* * *

Watanuki reclined on one of Yuuko's many overstuffed cushions, one hand clutching uselessly at the air in front of him and the other pinching the bridge of his nose. To his left sat the abominable half-horse, whom today was sporting a stupendously chartreuse coat and reeking of some sort of flower. ( _Peonies_ , Watanuki suddenly realized, and made a note to check the room after they were finished here for any lingering ants the beast may have carried in with him.) And to his right… The woman was at least recognizable as a fairy, even if her stern expression seemed vastly out of place on such a being. The man (Watanuki  _assumed_  it was a man, at any rate, despite learning on several occasions just how dangerous such an assumption could be), while clearly not a fairy, was completely unfamiliar to Watanuki. The large, furred ears lent him a curiously shady air and Watanuki was almost positive that he in no way wanted to know  _what_  the creature was doing with its tail…

He scowled, "Would someone  _please_  explain to me what we're all doing here?"

The fairy was the first to respond, tucking back her long black hair and getting to her feet. "Her Highness requested that we counsel the two of you on-"

" _Counsel_  us?" Watanuki sputtered, "What in the world do we need counseling on?"

"Your relationship, of course!" the… _man_  exclaimed, jumping to the fairy's side. She batted away his tail, which had less-than-surreptitiously curled its way around her waist, as he continued, eyes sparkling and arm sweeping out in a dramatic gesture, "My honey and I are the Fairy Kingdom's foremost inter-species relationship counselors!"

Watanuki balked, " _Relationship_? Oh no, no,  _no_ … This has gone far enough!" He leapt to his feet and stomped toward the door. "I'm done!" He jerked the handle. Locked.  _Again_. How many times was she going to do this to him? He'd been such a loyal servant and yet she kept locking him away with this stoned-faced monster. It wasn't  _fair_! It was a crime against-

"If you're, finished," the tailed-man interrupted, gesturing back toward Watanuki's abandoned cushion, "We can begin."

Watanuki scowled back at him and stormed back to his seat, crossing his arms and flopping down with a huff.

The fairy stepped forward, laying a hand on the man's shoulder to quiet whatever retort might have been forming on his lips. "As my husband said, we're here to counsel you through some of your relationship difficulties. I'm Arashi, and this is Sorata-"

"But you can call me Sora-chan!"

" _Yes_ ," Arashi continued through clenched teeth, "We're specialists in assisting couples with different specific and occasionally generic backgrounds-"

"What is he?" Doumeki piped up.

"Don't be rude!" Watanuki spat, "Why are you talking  _now_ , when she's in the middle of introducing them at all times!"

Doumeki shrugged, "I wanted to know."

"You wanted to know! So you just blurt it out while she's speaking? You really have no sense of where you are, do you?"

Arashi eyes widened as Watanuki continued to shriek. "Look," she said calmly, holding up her hands, "It's a very common question. I'm sure-"

"What?" Sorata looked crestfallen, "You mean you can't tell?"

Doumeki shook his head. Watanuki looked quickly between Arashi and Doumeki before conceding that he also had no idea.

Sorata frowned, then quickly bent to pull off a shoe. "Look!" he exclaimed, wiggling a large, grasping first toe at the stunned group, "Can you tell now?"

"Honey…" Arashi trailed off, hiding her face behind her hand and shaking her head. Her attention snapped back to the bickering not-couple. "He's one of the cercopes," she said sternly, "We'll be happy to answer any of your questions if you would kindly wai-"

"What's a cercopes?" Watanuki wondered aloud, then slapped a hand across his mouth.

Sorata beamed. "Why, only the cutest and most fun spirit to ever populate this forest! We're famous for our pranks – stealing travelers' supplies, reversing polarity on compasses, taking candy from small children, making strange noises in the night, despoiling virgins and scandalizing housewives – hey, what's wrong, honey?" Arashi only shifted her hand to massage her temples and stared at the floor. The careful observer might have noticed a steep increase in the rate and volume of her breathing (and, in fact, Doumeki did notice just such a thing), but Sorata was neither careful nor prone to observance, and so was left confused. "Anyway," he continued with a flick of his ears, "We took on Heracles, once. Perhaps you've heard  _that_  story?"

Watanuki and Doumeki shook their heads. Arashi muttered something that sounded suspiciously like "Escaped by laughing themselves sick at the sight of his bare ass and making a mess of the poor bastard's sandals…" and gripped her husband's arm.

"Oh, come  _on_!" Sorata wailed, "It's famous! It's-"

"I'm sorry," Watanuki interrupted quickly, now quite disturbed by the way Arashi's chest heaved with each breath and her fingers folded into fists, "It's just that it's kind of an obscure reference and-"

"I am  _not_  obscure!" Sorata looked completely scandalized by this accusation, "I have an entire family and several genera of monkeys named after me! Look at my tail! Look at my toe! Look at me – aah AHH  _AHH_ -"

The simian howling was silenced abruptly by a well-placed fist to Sorata's head. Watanuki and Doumeki stared in mute awe at Arashi, poised like a warrior goddess over her vanquished quarry.

"Now," she began again, carefully stepping over Sorata's unconscious, crumpled form, "Let's start from the beginning…"

* * *

Kurogane fluttered down from his perch outside Princess Tomoyo's window just as the evening bells were announcing six o'clock. It had been a  _long_  day and he found himself more irritable than usual as he tucked away the brassier parts of his work uniform for the evening. He had expected that returning to work would be a relief, a return to normalcy that would mark a final end to his years of exile. Instead, he found himself… _bored_ by the same work he had once cherished. Make no mistake, he was glad to be back, and damn near _gleeful_  that he managed to reclaim his old post as Princess Tomoyo's personal guard (he had yet to thank Bols for that, though he was wary of asking him what the inspiration for reassigning him to the position Bol's dear Kazuhiko had held for the past six years was, exactly). Still, his day seemed… _emptier_  than it had in the past, despite a full schedule.

"Hey, Kurogane."

It didn't help matters that the sound of his name – his full,  _proper_  name – sounded foreign and grated against his ear drums after so long without hearing it spoken. It was embarrassing, the way the hair at the back of his neck stood on end at its utterance and unbearably annoying that it bothered him so fiercely after years spent demanding (begging, pleading) that fool pronounce it properly…

Or, that  _bastard_ , as Kurogane had recently re-dubbed him. That  _bastard_  who had apparently disappeared without so much as a trace to track him down – even if only to thank him and go on his merry way. Or at least give him a proper beating…

He scowled and pinched his temples, dragging the pads of his thumb and forefinger across his eyes. "Fuuma," he nodded at the other fairy.

"You look like hell," Fuuma teased with a grin and lifted and eyebrow, "She didn't try to dress you up again, did she?"

"What?" Kurogane's eyebrows made a mad dash for his hairline before realization settled in, "Oh, Tomoyo. No, she's got other… _humans_  up there to play with."  _Thank God_ , he added silently.

"You're losing your touch," Fuuma chuckled, "Still, it's too bad. You did look nice in the lavender ruffles."

"Tche," Kurogane scoffed, "Troublesome bastard. Didn't I warn you that if you ever mentioned that again-"

"Easy now," Fuuma spread his hands in front of him and took a careful step backward, "And here we thought you'd be less of a crankass once you got settled back in. Guess there's no cure for it…"

"Do you have a point?" Kurogane snapped, suddenly very tired of this little charade. He had shit to do. Probably. Somewhere. Far, far from here-

Fuuma only laughed and pushed his red-tinted glasses farther up his nose. "I just thought I'd remind you that we have a standing appointment down the pub, since you failed to show last night. Will we see you tonight?"

"No."

"Oh come on, now. Since when do you turn down a drink?" Fuuma's eyes practically sparkled, "Besides, we're celebrating Kazuhiko's elopement. You don't want to miss out on  _that_ now, do you?"

Kurogane bristled. "Elopement?" he spat, "What the hell are you talking about? I just talked to Bols this morning-"

"Ahaha," Fuuma laughed, "You're so far out of the loop. I suppose that's what happens when you disappear for so long…" Fuuma straightened and rolled his eyes at Kurogane's angry glare, "Took up with a little slip of a wood sprite a while back – Su something – at any rate, they took off about…oh, three days ago now?" Fuuma scratched his chin, "Anyway, guy bought her a pair of metal wings as an engagement gift – can you believe it? Seems he forgot to mention the whole affair to Bols, though. Probably smart, considering their, uh,  _relationship_."

Kurogane shuddered and stepped past Fuuma, fluttering a few inches up into the air as he moved.

"But, hey, it got you your job back," Fumma continued, spreading his long, surprisingly sparkly, white wings to float easily back in front of Kurogane and paying no attention whatsoever to the brush-off, "And it's put Bols into a right foul mood. So that's two things to celebrate right there." He raised his eyebrows meaningfully and fluttered a few feet higher to stare down at the unwitting recipient of his invitation, "So you'll be there."

" _Tche_ ," Kurogane scoffed and flapped his wings forcefully to put some distance between himself and his bothersome assailant, "I'll think about it." He glanced back over his shoulder after a few moments had passed without further comment to find Fuuma floating where he had left him, arms crossed and a smirk plastered across his face.  _Shady bastard._ Probably just looking for someone to pay his tab after he'd taunted the wait staff and gotten tossed out of the pub…again.

Still, while Schadenfreude was, strictly speaking, not a pastime Kurogane frequently found himself indulging, there was something incredibly satisfying about Bols suddenly finding himself cuckolded and swapped for an (assumedly, it was difficult to tell with forest spirits at times) younger woman. He wasn't really one to rejoice in others' pain, but, well…it was _Bols_. And that  _might_  deserve a drink. Or two.

He changed course abruptly, and headed deeper into the forest toward a drinking establishment whose doorway he had not darkened in many, many years.

* * *

"Now," Sorata pointed toward his captive audience with authority that was only partially belied by the massive swelling on his head (which he was currently nursing tenderly with an ice pack), "The key to any interspecies relationship is acknowledging and celebrating your differences! You've got a tail; use it to swing from the ceiling! Use those ears as love-handles! And if you're hung like a horse-"

"What my husband means to say," Arashi cut him off with a stern glance, "Is that it's important for you both to accept your physical and emotional differences. You'll need to work within them for your relationship to flourish. So, just as an exercise to work us into the topic, why don't the both of you start off by naming a positive trait and a trait that you feel inhibits your relationship." She glanced quickly between the young men and made special note of Watanuki's grimace, "Doumeki, why don't you start?"

Doumeki shrugged.

"You see?" Watanuki raked his fingers down his face, "This is what I have to put up with!" He buried his face in his palms and leaned forward to balance his knees on his elbow. This was the last straw; he could practically feel the steam rising from his skull. He would throw himself upon Yuuko's mercy later this evening, beg, plead, bargain – whatever it took to convince her to send this interloper packing. Maybe if he-

"You know," Sorata's voice suddenly broke through his stream of consciousness, "If you want to pull off  _tsundere_ , you're really going to have to start working in a few flashes of kindness here and there."

Watanuki lifted his head. "What the hell are you talking about?" he demanded, "I don't need flashes of  _anything_." This guy was nearly as aggravating as the damned centaur.

"No, he's right," Arashi quickly agreed, "Look, we can go through all of these relationship building steps, but really, it's  _you_ ," she looked directly at Watanuki, "You're far too focused on the hard-to-catch aspect of all of this. I'm afraid your relationship is doomed if you don't relax, just a bit."

"Good!" Watanuki spat, leaning back into his cushion and draping an arm over his eyes, "I don't know what Yuuko paid you two, but I'll do my best to double it if you just let me be…"

"I don't believe you," Arashi said sternly.

"Well," Watanuki sat back up quickly, "I might not have it now, but I'll work it off! Anything you want-"

"Not that," Arashi continued, "I don't believe you're completely uninterested in making this work."

Watanuki bristled; hairs that he hadn't been aware were growing at the back of his neck suddenly wrenched themselves to attention. "You're as insane as the rest of them," he murmured in despair. Why did the entire world  _insist_  upon conspiring against him?

"Not at all," she assured him with a secretive grin, "But, as they say, we can smell our own."

"What is that supposed to-"

"Oh, my honey was quite a handful back in the day!" Sorata chirped, eyes closed and fluttering longingly, "She was the most fearsome opponent I ever had! And to think, all I did was steal her black lacy-" He ducked and folded his ears down this time as Arashi's fist once again sailed perilously close to his head. "But enough about us! I say it's time to move on to something more fun," he paused to hold up a hand at Arashi's complaints, "As my honey was saying, interspecies differences are key! You," he pointed at Watanuki, who flinched slightly, "Ever ridden bareback?"

Watanuki felt his jaw drop to the floor, but was too busy trying to remember that he even had a jaw to do anything about it. He glanced quickly back and forth between Arashi, who was too occupied with gaping at her husband in mute horror to notice, and Doumeki, who had paused midway through devouring a piece of cake to stare, confused, but apparently lacked the decency to even manage polite surprise at this turn of phrase.

"What?" Sorata continued, despite the confused and horrified stares he was receiving, "It's great exercise! It really works the thigh muscles. And! They say that if you curl your toes and set your hips  _just_  right-"

"Sorata!" Arashi and Watanuki screamed in unison.

Doumeki swallowed his cake audibly. "No, go on," he insisted, "I want to hear this."

Sorata grinned to himself. His wife may have been the more sensible of the pair, but he'd had far more experience in capturing and keeping the attention of a multitude of creatures. Not that he was especially confident they could do anything for this particular bickering duo, but he would ensure they received a lesson in interspecies courtship they would never forget.

He only hoped Arashi would forgive him once they returned home.

* * *

Kurogane pushed through the pub's entrance with a small amount of trepidation. He hadn't set foot in this particular bar for nearly six years and wasn't particularly looking forward to the return welcome the long memories of fairies practically guaranteed. He would have been perfectly happen to slink back into his old corner seat behind the chess board, where he had spent many restful nights in quiet solitude before the idiot had waltzed in to find shelter from a storm one night and taken the seat across from him. He hadn't had a moment of quiet since…

He snarled and tramped down the laughing voices in his head that insisted that that wasn't entirely true, was it? The last four days has been  _remarkably_  quiet. Fantastically quiet. Completely, utterly, and in all other ways  _maddeningly_  quiet. He had gone so far as to wind the cuckoo clock that had hung silently from his wall since he had inherited it so many years ago, just for the steady stream of ticks and tocks it provided. He'd ripped the eponymous bird from its perch after the first day.

The pub was ringing with the sounds of happy hour – raucous voices, rolling laughter, glasses clinking with the occasional toast – but otherwise remarkably unchanged. Tangled vines still adorned the walls around the mismatched, raw-wood furnishings, and the blond and green-haired dryad bartenders were achingly familiar. Kurogane waded his way through the patrons, keeping an eye out for his obligatory companions. He found Fuuma seated at the far corner of the room with a larger fairy dressed in their familiar uniform – Kusanagi, if the strangely patterned green and brown wings set atop a massive back didn't deceive him – propping up the bar. Fuuma caught his eye and waived him over excitedly.

"Just you two?" Kurogane grunted as he pulled up a stool next to the pair and tucked his wings back so the rustling crowd would not crush them, "Thought this was a party."

Kusanagi raised an eyebrow at him, then glanced back at Fuuma, who was presently occupied with an attempt to smirk around the rim of his mug and failing quite badly. He frowned, "If this is a party, I haven't been invited…"

Kurogane rolled his eyes and waved to the bartender, whose eyes lit up as she made her way down the counter. He should have expected this much. "So what the hell are we all doing here?" he demanded.

"Drinking!" Fuuma raised a glass toward him. Kurogane sneered, but sighed resignedly as the blond dryad frinally made her way to him.

"Kurogane!" the bartender smiled happily, "It's been so long! Has Umi been taking care of you?"

"Fuu," he nodded, "Yeah, it's been- Wait, why do you know Umi?" His memory drifted back to the blue-haired dryad who had tended the bar below his previous hovel and her gossipy teasing. He shuddered; that was just perfect – even in exile he couldn't escape the scandalous nonsense most fairies seemed to revel in propagating.

Fuu chuckled and handed him a draft. "Why wouldn't I know Umi?" she teased, "She was quite fond of you and Fay, you know. Though she did say she doesn't miss all the noise wafting down through the floor boards at night…"

Kurogane watched out of the corner of his eye as Kusanagi gruffly pulled a pile of coins from his pocket and chucked them irritably at Fuuma. He felt his upper lip pull back into a snarl. "What noise?" he hissed through clenched teeth.

Fuu laughed, "All the screaming and shouting, of course!" she turned to Fuuma and Kusanagi and snickered, "Apparently no one throws a knock-down, drag-out argument like these two." She turned back to Kurogane, concerned, "Where is Fay? He didn't want to come out to see us tonight?"

Kurogane shrugged and fought down a grimace. "Why should I know where that idiot is?" he growled, "He's not my problem anymore."

"Oh," Fuu looked surprised and backed away quickly, "You're right, that was completely out of line. I'm so sorry."

"No, don't-" Kurogane began, but quickly silenced himself as she hurried back toward the other end of the bar. Wonderful. Well, at least he was working himself back into a symbol of fear and respect (loathing" was probably more accurate at the moment, but respect would come later) instead of someone to be constantly mocked and taunted. That was a silver lining, at least. He looked back to Fuuma and Kusanagi, who were now apparently quarreling over something locked in Fuuma's grip. Kusanagi wrenched suddenly to the right, twisting Fuuma's arm just  _so_ …and loosed a fistful of coins which scattered noisily across the bar and were quickly plucked up by other patrons.

Kusanagi scowled back at Fuuma, muttering curses for cheats and thieves under his breath before taking a sudden swing at the other's head. Fuuma dodged the blow easily, laughing all the while, but found himself dragged into a merciless headlock only a moment later. He threw his hands up as best he could around Kusanagi's massive arms. "Alright, _alright_!" he grumbled, "I'll get the next round. Now get off of me, you big oaf."

Kusanagi settled back against the bar with a smirk as Fuuma straightened his collar and climbed back onto his stool, just in time to flash a dazzling smile at pair of passing fairies. The smaller of the pair, a fairy with wild black hair and spiky black wings, snarled back and gripped the arm of his companion more tightly. Fuuma blew a kiss.

"That's got to sting," Kusanagi mumbled.

"You're not still doing this, are you?" Kurogane groaned and drained his glass. He supposed he shouldn't have been surprised; Fuuma's… _antagonistic_  relationship with his underling, Kamui, predated Kurogane's employment in the guard. It was only recently, though, that the antagonism had started to border on sexual assault. Kurogane had been present to witness plenty of  _that_ , and he had no real desire to relive any of his carefully repressed memories on this night.

Fuuma looked insulted. "Of course I am!" he exclaimed, "I can think of nothing more fun."

Kusanagi frowned, "Isn't that Subaru he's with?"

Fuuma stretched to get a better glimpse of the pair across the room. "Probably," he shrugged, "They  _have_  seemed awfully fond of each other of late."

"Lovely," Kusanagi banged his glass against the counter. "And now we can wait for Seishiro to show up here and beat the hell out of the kid. Only relationship in the forest more messed up than yours," he grumbled.

"I wouldn't worry about that for right now. Seishiro is down for the count, last I heard. Some sort eye injury," he waved this away, "Who knows? Anyway, I'm not the one who's suddenly taken an interest in pedophilia."

"You bastard," Kusanagi hissed.

"What?" Kurogane was genuinely confused. In the long years that he had known Kusanagi, he had never known the man to take an active interest in  _anyone_ , much less a much younger someone…

"Oh yes," Fuuma's eyes sparkled, "His little wolf-girl. She still quite a pup-" he exhaled most of the last word as Kusanagi's fist collided with his abdomen.

Kurogane shifted in his seat and rolled his eyes. He certainly hadn't come out here to gossip like a gaggle of frivolous fairies about their romantic exploits and, in all honesty, the topic was grating on him more than it ought to have been. He wasn't sure why – most likely residual irritation at being baited and lied to come here in the first place – but listening to these two bicker about their lovers was making his skin crawl. Surely there was something better to discuss – troll hunting, banshee extermination,  _anything_.

" _Kurogane_?"

 _Goddamn it._  He spun on his stool to face this newest addition to their group. "Rikuou," he nodded curtly.  _Perfect_. If the punk was here, the flaily rodent-boy wouldn't be far behind – ah, and there he was now, looking  _especially_ …

Kurogane gaped at the new osteological appendage curling its way out of Kazahaya's lopsided hair. He squinted, craned his neck, but nothing seemed to make any more damned sense of it. Kazahaya caught his eye and huffed indignantly before stomping off to claim a stool of his own.

"What's his problem?" Kurogane grumbled over his shoulder as Rikuou settled in next to him.

"He's horny," Rikuou replied with a shrug.

" _Tche_ ," Kurogane gripped his glass more tightly and stared straight ahead, behind the bar.  _What exactly_ , he wondered,  _had he missed so goddamned much about this life, anyway?_ Nothing here was all that much better than in the seedier parts of the forest; the beer was still warm, the company irksome, and every last one of them seemed more than content to float around in a sparkly sea of lovesick stupor. Even now he could see Fuuma traipsing across the room with his eyes set on Kamui and his tongue clenched menacingly between his teeth. It was all terrifically disgusting.

"It's hard, you know," Kazahaya whined from behind him. Kurogane started and cursed beneath his breath; he hadn't been paying attention to hear the other fairy approaching. "Teaching transfiguration," Kazahaya continued as he slithered in between Kurogane and Rikuou to lean against the bar. His eyes glowed with anger beneath the unruly horn sprouting from his head.

"You're teaching now?" Kurogane scoffed. The last he had heard, Kazahaya had still been struggling to pass his exams, which hadn't terribly surprised Kurogane at the time.

"It was a special favor to Her Majesty," Rikuou answered before Kazahaya was able to blurt an appropriately indignant response, "We felt we owed her."

" _We_  owed her?" Kazahaya sputtered, "Who is this  _we_? I don't see  _you_  sitting here with a horn sticking out of  _your_  head!"

"Just get rid of it!" Kurogane growled, "You're a magician – it's your damned job!"

" _Hah_!" Kazahaya chuckled bitterly, "Well, that should be no problem in theory, except that Her Highness assigned me a student with more powerful magic than my own, so  _no_ , I can't just get rid of it."

"You should have seen him before we changed most of him back," Rikuou huffed, "It was a mess. It's a good thing the student is somewhat of a quick study…"

"Not quick enough," Kazahaya grumbled.

"Well perhaps if you put less pissing and moaning into your spells and more actual effort-"

Kurogane abandoned his glass on the bar and slid away from his stool. That was about all he could stomach for tonight. He didn't need to sit here and listen to idiots bicker back and forth – he could get that any time he wanted at home-

Well, home would be quiet, anyway, and that was still better than being here. He stomped toward the door without even a final wave over his shoulder.

Fuuma could pick up his tab.


	8. Chapter 8

_The eye of man hath not heard, the ear of man_   
_hath not seen, man's hand is not able to taste, his_   
_tongue to conceive, nor his heart to report, what_   
_my dream was._

 _-A Midsummer Night's Dream, IV;i_

* * *

Syaoran rattled his teacup nervously against its saucer and tried very hard not to let the over-full contents splash over the sides. He sipped carefully, scolding himself for not being more mindful of the teapot while pouring, but it was difficult for him to be mindful of anything this afternoon, with this all-too-familiar, yet mostly foreign man sitting across the table from him.  _Four years_. It had been four years since Syaoran had last seen his brother, and possibly longer than that since they had held an actual conversation. The years before his departure had been strained – Syaoran had still been a rambunctious early teen, hell-bent on disrupting his older and far more serious brother's studies and contemplations with hormonal rantings. Now he was faced with an even older incarnation, wizened by years spent traveling, it would seem, without word of his family or their support.

"What's wrong, Syaoran? You look like you've seen a ghost!"

Syaoran set his saucer back on the table and stared. Was this somehow better? Sitting here, face to face across an over-doilied table with a man who had caused an unimaginable upheaval (both within their family and their on his departure, yet seemed perfectly willing to waltz back into Syaoran's life as if none of that had passed? How could he sit there so calmly, with that infuriating smile plastered across his face – the same one he had always used when he felt one of his complicated jokes had gone flying right over his younger brother's head… "It's just-" Syaoran started shakily, then found his courage rooted in the base of a glare, "Where the hell have you been, Eriol?"

"Ah," Eriol closed his eyes and set his cup to rest, "I thought that might be troubling you."

Syaoran's face pulled back in disgust, " _Troubling_  me? The entire Kingdom went into disarray when you disappeared! We thought you'd been kidnapped – we had no idea who we could trust! Mother and Father emptied out an incredible chunk of the treasury sending out search parties and investigators. And then…" He trailed off and glared angrily across the table, "How can you just come back here and pretend nothing has happened?"

Eriol frowned and bit at his lip, "I'm certainly not pretending that nothing has happened-"

"Were you kidnapped?"

"No-"

"So you just left."

"Yes," Eriol held up a hand and smiled kindly to silence the imminent explosion from his brother, "Please, Syaoran. There are things at play in this world that you couldn't possibly fathom. If I had tried to explain why I needed to go-"

"It would have been better than just disappearing!" Syaoran nearly shouted.

" _Syaoran_ ," Eriol smiled again, a calmer, less infuriating smile that settled Syaoran's rage rather than stirring it into a greater pique, "You've grown, but you're still very much the same earnest, caring boy I missed so dearly."

Syaoran bristled at this, but relaxed into his seat. He  _had_  grown, and he was determined not to descend into the biting temper he'd been famous for in his younger years; but then Eriol flashed that damned irritating grin again and why, oh  _why_  did that bastard have to make everything so damned  _difficult_? "Why did you come back? And more importantly, why here? Why not home?"

Eriol chuckled, "Well, despite being removed from the court of Clow, I have kept myself fairly well-informed of its goings-on. And when I heard that my youngest brother was coming to plead for the hand of that darling Kinomoto girl…well, I thought it as good a time as any to reconcile. I trust Lady Akizuki played her role well?"

"You had something to do with that?" Syaoran balked, forcing down the faint smile teasing his lips at the memory of Lord Touya being accosted and nearly smothered by the over-amorous Lady, "But how-"

"She's a loyal associate of mine," Eriol winked. "Think of it as an early wedding present," he paused, stroking his chin, "And a bit of free entertainment. Figured you could use something to lighten the mood around here – especially with all the strutting and chest-puffing that Lord Kinomoto is known for. She's sharp as a tack, and just as efficient for deflating egos."

Syaoran's eyes narrowed. "You're changing the subject," he said flatly, "Please – where have you been all these years?"

"I've been journeying around the countryside, stealing chickens and deflowering pastor's daughters."

Syaoran rolled his eyes.

"Establishing a nudist colony in the southern territories, then."

"Right," Syaoran stood to leave the table.

"Oh, sit," Eriol laughed, "We both know that no one wants to see the amply-bosomed Lords of the South naked." He grinned as Syaoran hesitantly reclaimed his seat, "Still, that would probably be more entertaining than the truth of these last four years."

"Which is?"

"I've been on a pilgrimage, I suppose you could say. Seeking out the places described by our ancestors in the library, searching for answers about my own life…" Eriol trailed off, a wistful look glazing his eyes.

Syaoran frowned – it was still enigmatic nonsense, but probably the best he was going to wrangle from his notoriously tight-lipped brother, "So you've found what you were looking for, then?"

"No," Eriol paused, studying his brother's face and marveling at how much the boy had grown into a man, "And I doubt I ever will. I have learned a great many things, however, and foremost among them is that appreciating those dear to you while you can is one of the most important parts of life. Who knows what may happen in the future, after all."

Syaoran sighed. Why did he still insist on being so cryptic after all these years? "So you're back for good, then?"

Eriol nodded, "I promise to be in contact from here on, even if I am not physically close by."

"So you won't be coming back to Clow?"

"No," Eriol shook his head, "I can say without hesitation that my place is no longer meant to be amongst the courts there. However," he added quickly, noting the growing grimace on Syaoran's face, "I would be most honored if we were to visit, from time to time. Besides which, I daresay there are enough Li brothers to feud over the family vault without me. Where is His Spasticness, anyway? At home lamenting his inability to find a date for the wedding?"

Syaoran swallowed thickly and stared down at the table. "No," he said after a long moment, "He…disappeared shortly after you did."

"Oh," Eriol's face fell grim, "I see. And no word, I suppose?"

"No," Syaoran answered, unease creeping into his voice. Part of him had always assumed his brothers would be found together; now that Eriol had turned up alone… He sighed and pushed the thought away. He had dealt with their loss so many years ago – why was this suddenly striking him like a load of bricks  _now_ , of all times? He ought to be celebrating his impending marriage (the one that he'd prostrated himself to beg permission for and spent god knows how many days wandering around, lost in a forest and enduring strange dreams of Yukito's curiously luscious lobes to ensure), and instead he found himself spurned by his fiancée and left to the mercy of this absent fool who – willingly or not – was doing nothing but stirring unpleasant emotions-

"So where is she, then?"

Syaoran snapped back to the present and gaped at his brother. "Who?"

"The darling Lady Kinomoto, of course!"

"She's," Syaoran blinked, confused, but not entirely ungrateful for the abrupt shift in the conversation. Eriol smiled calmly back, clearly intent on soothing his brother (in an admittedly round-about way, but then, Syaoran wasn't generally well-disposed to blatant comfort). "She's with Princess Tomoyo at the moment. I'm sure we'll see her later, especially now that you've arrived."

Eriol's grin turned mischievous, "Excellent. That gives us plenty of time to discuss your bachelor party. I heard you were thinking of reviving the old Pifflite ice-gathering tradition?"

"W-what?" Syaoran sputtered, "I'm not having a-"

"Nonsense!" Eriol insisted, "The bachelor party is a time-honored tradition! Though really, I have to say the Pifflites had it all wrong – the proper way to celebrate your last night as a bachelor is to get stinking drunk and pick up a few women-of-loose-morals down by the docks. All while your best mates and relatives cheer you on and sing songs praising your virility."

Syaoran could feel his face expanding as it grew hot with blood. "What are you- There  _are_  no docks here, and even if there  _were_ -"

"Oh don't be silly, Syaoran!" Eriol continued, completely ignoring the blustering slobber flying from Syaoran's lips, "How else are you supposed to practice your wedding night maneuver?"

" _Wedding night maneuver_?"

"Oh dear," Eriol's eyebrows lifted in polite surprise, "Little brother, I'm afraid we have some  _serious_  subject matter to discuss…"

Syaoran twitched noticeably and prayed that the words "When a man and woman love each other very much," would not be the next from his brother's mouth.

* * *

Tomoyo clamored excitedly into the room and collapsed against the back side of the door as it closed behind her. In her hands she clutched a rumpled wad of silk satin, which she happily grinned into – today's dress fitting must have gone well from the look of her. She sighed happily and set herself to rattling off what sounded to be potential accessories in a quiet voice, so occupied that she barely noticed the muted ruffle of the curtains across the room.

"You don't have to hide there," she called lightly, hiding a smile, "It's not as if I hadn't noticed you've come back."

There was a loud huff as the drapes were brushed unceremoniously aside to reveal the dark figure reclining against the wall behind them. Kurogane cocked an eyebrow at the princess and refused to move his unoccupied arm from its crossed position over his chest. "You've had guests," he replied simply, "And it's improper-"

"Ohohoho," Tomoyo's raucous laughted cut him off in midsentence. "When," she gasped for air, "Have  _you_  ever cared about what's proper?"

Kurogane scowled and tucked the curtain back behind his shoulder, recrossing his other arm with its brethren. "I've only just been reinstated," he growled, "And already you're back to playing games."

Tomoyo rose to her feet and strode across the room, a purposeful expression shifting into position over her face. "I think you will find, Kurogane," she said haughtily, "That there is nothing playful about this." She snapped her fingers and pointed at the ground in front of her, eyebrows lifting meaningfully.

Kurogane scoffed and quirked his face in disbelief.  _Was she really…?_  He rolled his eyes; of  _course_  she was. With a surly grunt and an exasperated shake of his head, he dropped to one knee. "Your Highness," he rumbled, almost inaudibly.

This was followed by a long pause, during which Kurogane found himself questioning his decision to return. It had been six years – surely he shouldn't have expected to waltz back in as if no time had passed. She had grown from a kind-hearted and occasionally (well, more often than not, really) ridiculous teenager, who had plaited his hair and goaded him into tea-parties, into a powerful young woman in his absence; he should have expected the shift in demeanor that inevitably accompanied such a coming of age. Especially if she had taken to emulating her sister or, worse yet, her  _mother_ … He shuddered and chanced a quick glance upward.

He wasn't sure whether to be relieved or enraged to find her hiding a smirk behind her hand and shaking with barely contained laughter. Not that she afforded him much of an opportunity to contemplate it any further, as she had launched herself at him in the next second and enveloped him in a bruising embrace. "I've missed you," she declared in the same imperious tone she had cowed him with only minutes earlier.

"I-" he coughed with some difficulty, "Yeah."

She released him, seemingly satisfied with this response, and stepped back to appraise him. "I was just sick when Kazuhiko told me you'd been exiled," she admitted quietly, "I couldn't imagine what you'd done. He told me it had something to do with the forest fire, but that was all he would say, before he took to ignoring me like a well-trained soldier."

Kurogane bit back a scathing retort to the words "well trained," and sighed heavily. "I was trying to run damage control for an idiot who couldn't control the magic he was using," he muttered.

"Oh?" Tomoyo was surprised; Kurogane had never before mentioned his dealings with other fairies, and she had – lost in the naivety of youth and later the self-involved haze of adolescence – never thought to ask. In her confined world of servants and few playmates, she had considered him to be just like herself – a lone entity whose life revolved around this palace and the people in it. And in some ways, she now realized from the look on his face, she must have been correct – her surly fairy guard was not one to form friendships lightly. "Why don't you tell me about it," she suggested, her face suddenly brightening, "Over tea?"

Kurogane's eyes widened in fear (no matter how he tried to convince himself that is was most certainly  _not_ ), but he accepted, resignedly hoping that this afternoon was not about to devolve into another ground battle in the Endless War of Appropriate Teatime Dress, which usually ended with him being stuffed into something sparkly and choking under the weight of its own ruffles. He had lost their last match – miserably – falling at only the third strike against a particularly gaudy lavender bonnet, complete with wispy, flopping feathers and a lacy bow, and had been done completely in by the matching opera gloves (though he had to admit that the satin  _had_  felt deliciously luxurious wrapped about his fingers).

Tomoyo was in no mood to torture her wayward servant this afternoon, however, and made none of her usual comments about the shocking drabness of his uniform as she motioned for him to take a seat at her table. She dashed off to the hallway to call for tea before settling down opposite Kurogane and smiling widely. "Tell me everything."

And so Kurogane did, and by the time the tea had arrived, he had taken her through the finer points of the forest fire and their resulting exile, beginning with Fay's earliest dabbling into gray magic and pausing briefly to explain some of the finer points of fairy law regarding appropriate usage of spells and charms before continuing right into the not-quite-forbidden creation spells at the heart of the story. He felt he was being exceptionally kind to the idiot by leaving room for a fair amount of speculation on Tomoyo's part as to Fay's motivations (partly because he didn't know himself precisely what they had been, and partly because he didn't honestly believe there had been any sort of ill intentions driving him) as well as blatantly leaving out a full description of just how woefully ill-prepared they had been for the possibility of Fay losing control of the spell. The more he talked, the more ridiculous the entire affair sounded, and Tomoyo's laughter only goaded him into glossing over the really idiotic bits in favor of regaling her with the blatant torture he had endured throughout his exile. He was just getting to the really  _good_  bit where that idiot had decided that keeping a wild chimaera as a pet would be a fantastic idea and how it had nearly knocked in their walls and destroyed their hovel when a knock at the door announced the arrival of their tea. Kurogane sat motionless, as he had so many times before, as a stuffy-looking servant bustled in with a tray and set the table, looking directly through the fairy the entire while.

"Will You Highness be wanting extra settings?" the stodgy servant asked once the majority of the tableware had been set, "Or is it just Herself this afternoon?"

"No," Tomoyo replied with her usual grace, "Set three more, if you would. I'm expecting my company to return shortly."

"Very well." With the china set to his liking, the servant turned and exited just as quickly as he had arrived, leaving Tomoyo to stare in his wake.

She chuckled quietly, "Even after all these years, it still amazes me that they don't see you. Any of you. You're all so… _big_ , too!"

"You're only able to see us because you're half-fairy yourself," Kurogane reminded her. He was far too used to being ignored by humans to share her fascination – it was just another fact of life for forest spirits. "Or so I've been told."

"Mmm," Tomoyo nodded, sipping her tea, "Though surely my mother must have been able to see your kind. Otherwise my sister and I would likely not exist."

Kurogane did not care to think about too terribly hard on the matter and simply shrugged. It wasn't unheard of for the occasional human to take notice of fairies, and Queen Sonomi had been a force of nature unto herself – beautiful, terrifying, and in all ways incomprehensible.

"So, your friend," Tomoyo prompted, eager to know more about the fairy that had driven Kurogane so fantastically insane in such a short while (and she had yet to hear the rest of his stories of exhile – if his red-soaked cheeks and ever-inflating neck were anything to judge by, these were tales she wanted to hear very much indeed), "Where is he now? Does he work here at the palace as well?" her eyes widened with excitement, "Could we-"

" _Not_  my friend," Kurogane ground out, "And I haven't the slightest clue where the moron is now. He disappeared before we were transformed back."

Tomoyo frowned, "Well that's truly a shame."

Kurogane stiffened under her gaze, which seemed to be raking across him with a thoroughly inappropriate air of…oh dear god, was that  _pity_? "What is?" he barked, draining the tea from his cup and slamming it back on the saucer. He didn't appreciate that all-too-knowing quirk of her eyebrow, nor did he think he'd done anything especially funny to warrant the soft chuckle that followed.

"Oh Kurogane," Tomoyo sang as he glared, "You always seemed so much older when I was a young girl."

His eyes narrowed. He  _was_  older – by a good couple of centuries, in fact – and she, of all people, ought to have been more than averagely aware of this. Judging by the twitching corners of her lips, she was playing with him again, though, but he was finding it difficult to reacclimatize to her girlish games this afternoon and only sighed. "How do you mean?" he managed in an even tone.

"Well, you know," she said carefully and stirred a generous helping of milk into her tea, "When you're a child, everyone seems to know so much more about life than you do. You think that surely they must know how to handle every possible situation – as if there was some magical book of knowledge that you're passed once you reach a certain age."

"What does that have to do with me?" Kurogane blurted, now completely confused.

Tomoyo smiled kindly and reached across the table to refill his cup, "You're still very young for a fairy, aren't you?"

Kurogane shrugged. He honestly wasn't certain – it wasn't as if fairies bothered to keep close track of things like age. What was the point when you were, barring accidents and cataclysm, immortal? You came of age around your 300th birthday and anniversaries were rarely spoken of after that; the only real reason he'd been keeping track of the passing years of late was to track their exile (and in so doing, determine exactly  _how_  brutal a thrashing he owed Fay once they had been returned…for all the use  _that_  had proved to be).

"Well, you've certainly grown, if not aged, in the short time I've known you," Tomoyo continued, "When you first started working here, you were as gruff and callous as the rest of the guard – you picked fights with everyone-" she paused at his raised eyebrow, "-okay, so you still pick fights with everyone. My point is that you've grown from a bitter, angry man who refused to get close to anyone to a," she paused again to choke back a laugh at the look of horror spreading across his face, "Much  _calmer_  individual." She set down her cup and looked at him pointedly. "Who is capable of interactions with people beyond introducing them to the nearest bit of concrete with your fists. Who, in fact, is capable of forming bonds with others and, dare I say, caring deeply about them?"

Kurogane continued to stare in confusion. What, exactly, was she trying to get at? He  _had_ mellowed – that was a fact, pure and simple. But that had happened gradually over his years of guarding her; it was the end result of being recruited into a job that was traditionally saved for the dregs of fairy society, who typically possessed the brawn, but not the brains to serve in her Majesty's own guard. (It was generally considered the final refuge of scoundrels, one step away from banishment – and that description had suited him frighteningly well not so long ago.) He could still vividly remember the day Bols had offered him the choice of enlisting or having his face smashed neatly through the bars of the local jail cell after a particularly nasty brawl outside (and inside as well, but it hadn't really mattered once he had smashed through the outer wall, anyway) the local tavern. It hadn't been a difficult choice – he hadn't really considered Bols to be much of an opponent, but, after such a long while of barely scraping by on the meager wages of "first lieutenant royal beekeeper" after the sudden and tragic destruction of his family's apiary (all these years later they were still chipping away at the flood of wax that had swallowed the yard whole) and the equally tragic death of his parents, he had been only too eager to jump at the higher pay and better benefits employment at the human's palace guaranteed. It couldn't be helped that spending his days around a sparkle-nosed brat was far more calming than fighting losing battles against angry swarms of bees, and there certainly had been less cause for bar brawls once he was no longer required to don the dignity-draining flowered bonnet and skintight mesh jumpsuit of the royal beekeepers.

It was the natural progression of things, not something that warranted surprise now, and certainly not something that meant he was "forming bonds" and "caring deeply" and all of this other nonsense she was spewing. And smiling about. Why did she insist on  _smiling_  like that? She looked like a damned cat that had stumbled on an oblivious canary.

He sure as hell wasn't an oblivious canary. "What do you-"

"Did I ever tell you about my father?" she asked suddenly.

Kurogane balked. While it was common knowledge throughout the fairy kingdom that both princesses had been been conceived of a fairy sire, it was still unclear exactly whom that had been. Tomoyo's mother, the late Queen Sonomi, had declared both of her daughters to be the product of a union with a human foreign minister, whom she had flatly refused to marry as tradition dictated. It had been a calculated political move to ease tensions between countries, which the humans had devoured without much question, for all the relief it brought them. But the fairy kingdom – despite the remaining uncertainty of the princesses' patronage – had felt obligated to provide its own protection to the half-fairy Tomoyo and Kendappa against the darker magics of the forest that humans were ill-equipped to ward off. This, too, was serving some larger political purpose that Kurogane had been forced to memorize and recite years earlier as part of his military training, but that messy world of treaties and betrayals held barely enough intrigue to dust his wings with, and he had promptly deposited the explanation (along with his sobriety) onto the counter of the nearest pub in exchange for a few hours of blissful ignorance and forgotten to pick it up on his way out again. He hadn't been aware than Tomoyo knew any more about her father than anyone else in the two kingdoms, save her mother. "No," he said levelly and raised an eyebrow.

"I never met him," she continued, "But mother used to say he was a good man – a good fairy, I should say."

Kurogane nodded, still not entirely certain where this topic was heading.

"She never loved him, you know."

"She-  _What_?" Kurogane blustered. Why on  _earth_  was she telling him this?

"No – they were close friends," Tomoyo said with a small smile, "And she needed heirs for the kingdom. But her  _love_ ," she looked directly in his eyes, "Her  _true_  love, never even knew how my mother felt."

"I don't see how this-"

"Kurogane, will you listen to my story?" she pleaded, eyes wide and sparkling.

"I- Yeah, fine."

"Thank you," she smiled again, "My mother loved a very beautiful woman from the royal court. They grew up together in the palace here, were the best of friends. My mother doted on her, cared for her, but never once did she breathe a word of her true feelings," she paused, studying Kurogane's face, "Don't you think that's sad?"

Kurogane didn't find this to be so much "sad" as he did "completely idiotic" as was about to open his mouth to say so when Tomoyo started speaking again.

"The woman married very young to the heir of the Tomoeda province, and that was that. She moved away from the court, away from my mother, and started a family of her own. My mother was heartbroken, and spent a good deal of time plotting against Tomoeda and the man who had stolen her beloved away. It was quite the scandal, at the time, though I doubt you were far enough involved in our politics at the time to know much about it. In the end, though, she had only herself to blame; she had never told her dear friend of her feelings."

Kurogane rolled his eyes. Too damned right she'd only had herself to blame. Not even the great and terrible Queen Sonomi could have expected her subjects to read her mind…

"The woman died ten years ago," Tomoyo continued solemnly, "And my mother followed shortly after. It's still said that she died of a broken heart."

Kurogane scoffed, "Your mother died of influenza. I was  _there_ -"

"That's the official story," Tomoyo frowned, "But my sister has always said-"

"That's nonsense," Kurogane huffed, "I had to keep you forcibly away from her room. Broken hearts aren't catching."

Tomoyo smiled sadly, "Perhaps you're right. But the lesson still stands."

"What  _lesson_?" Kurogane demanded, "Is there a point to all of this? You're just making yourself upset, talking about your mother."

"Of course there is," Tomoyo insisted, "As much as I do enjoy telling a good love story, I much prefer the ones with happy endings, don't you?  _That_  is why I'm telling you this."

Kurogane stared.

"So you can find a happier ending," Tomoyo smiled again, much brighter this time.

" _What the_ …?" Kurogane recoiled. What the  _hell_  was she talking about? Happier ending?  _This_  was his happy ending – having his old life back, being free of those damnable hooves, and – most importantly – not being consistently assaulted by flailing idiots who thought keeping chimaeras as pets was a great idea and that miniature pink umbrellas made for suitable mantelpiece decoration. Idiots who talked and talked without ever making a damned point. Idiots who drank themselves into such oblivion that singing and tap dancing atop the bar seemed like a reasonable way to earn money. Idiots who forced themselves out of bed every morning to make breakfast that Kurogane neither wanted nor very much cared for. Idiots who fussed over the nits in his leg hair and picked through his pelage like and over concerned mother with a fine-toothed comb once a week – kicking and cursing completely ignored – to be sure he was rid of them. Idiots who couldn't be bothered to pronounce his name correctly despite six years of lessons and thinly veiled threats. Idiots who  _still_  couldn't be bothered to turn up just to say hello and confirm that they weren't dead and gone forever-

 _God damn it._

"What's wrong?" Tomoyo gaped at him and quickly got to her feet.

Kurogane blinked several times. "I'm an oblivious canary," he murmured after a long moment.

Tomoyo chuckled and returned to her seat, visibly relaxing. "Is that a fairy colloquialism for 'bloody idiot?'"

"What?" Kurogane snapped his attention back to the princess, "Of course it's not. Or maybe it is. I don't know."

Tomoyo poured another cup of tea for each of them and grinned over the rim of her glass. "So you  _will_  tell him, after all? And not relegate yourself to the long line of broken hearted cowards that roam this palace?" she tapped her chin lightly as Kurogane's jaw dropped, "Do you know where you might start looking for him, then?"

 _That little…_  Kurogane sighed. The brat was far too perceptive for her own good. But then, she always had been. "I have an idea," he grunted and stared at her through narrowed, appraising eyes, "You've grown quite a lot, too."

"Why, thank you, Kurogane," Tomoyo giggled, "Though I have to say, any idiot could have seen it written all over your face. You're not exactly good at hiding things, especially when you're not aware of them yourself."

" _Tche_. And you," Kurogane savored this serving, rather than downing it like his previous cups, "Are still a meddlesome little twerp." He nodded sagely, "Completely unsuited to rule."

"Ahh," Tomoyo smiled broadly, " _There_  you are. I've missed you so, Kurogane."

* * *

Yuuko pinched her throbbing temples between thumb and forefinger and poured herself another glass of wine. Really, Watanuki ought to be refilling her glass for her – this was what servants were for, after all, and his contract explicitly stipulated that he would labor to ensure her afternoon wine buzz was fizzing through her fingers by three pm and no later. Now here it was, going on four and all she had to show for her empty bottle was a faint warmth in her cheeks.

It was completely unacceptable.

She set the emptied bottle back onto the table and dragged an index finger across the rim of her glass thoughtfully as a loud crash shook the wall of the dining room. She supposed she could shout into the kitchen for him, but that just seemed so uncouth – this was supposed to be relaxing, after all. If she wanted to scream at someone, she had plenty of royal advisors lazing about the place to fill that role, all of whom probably deserved a good thrashing (not that Watanuki, in his current state, didn't, but reducing the boy to tears was never as rewarding as watching his facial gymnastics as she tacked on more duties to his schedule). Another crash.

Not that he would be able to  _hear_  her over the shouts and shattering of china against the walls.

She sighed and shifted restlessly in her seat; the best laid plans of fauns and fairies, it would seem, had veered further off course than she had thought possible at the outset of all this. The Mokonas had played their roles well, even if it did appear that, once again, their snuggle-mongering had gotten the better of them. (Not that she was complaining, mind you – such a minor and ultimately easily resolved glitch in her plans was a small price to pay for the endless hours of amusement the Mokonas had provided. She was just going to have to instill a bit more… _selectiveness_  about who's mouths they went around shoveling their tongues into…) She was resting somewhat more easily knowing that Lord Kinomoto had relented (or been too otherwise occupied to continue his protest), but she was still left with the question of what to do about the horse-priest in the kitchen and his unwitting (and unwilling) prince charming…

She sucked in a breath as another piece of china shattered against the opposite side of the wall. With the royal wedding approaching in just under a week, it was time to put an end to this and return Doumeki to his obligations, lest she disrupt the wedding and stress the delicate relations between the human and fairy world even further. She had wagered that the young priest, with his knowledge of the supernatural and impressively spiritual family lineage, would have been able to bond with Watanuki, somehow; the boy  _needed_  to form relationships with other humans if he was to return to their world. She sighed, lamenting her complete inability to turn him out on his own, with or without his memories. It  _had_  to have been one of Clow's line that landed on her doorstep, frightened and alone, without any of his memories to guide him home. He looked far too much like  _him_  as well, but that was probably expected, considering his ancestry. Had the same terrible temper as well, she mused, though the personality was much better. But that was all beside the point – Doumeki had to leave this place, and it was unlikely that another human would stumble upon her palace her in the woods to attempt this little gamble a second time. She would have to send Watanuki back with him – likely kicking and screaming and flailing all the way, but that was easily countered with a bit of ether soaked into a rag – and hope that he was able to make his way back to his family. But before she did that…

She stood quickly and headed to the hallway.  _Yes_ , that was the best of all solutions. It ensured continued peaceful relations with the humans (and their half-fairy queen) and fulfilled her obligation to Watanuki, even if it meant she would be wishing him a hastily and somewhat duplicitous farewell. Honestly, the  _lengths_  she went to ensure a fruitful future for her people.

 _And_  to keep ancient promises to a long-dead man, but that was another issue altogether.

She made her way into the lion's den and reclined casually against the entranceway frame. The kitchen was less wrecked than she had anticipated, thanks in large part to Chii scrambling across the floor, dodging both the ceramic rain and centaur's hooves, and mopping up the scattered mess Watanuki was busily flinging about the room. Yuuko frowned – the poor child's furry ears were twitching in time with the shattering glass and she looked positively terrified (whether of the flying glass or the human flinging it, Yuuko wasn't sure, but her heart went out to the poor girl). Doumeki, for his part, was doing a spectacular job of evading the flying china – especially for someone with so little experience walking in hooves. She was doubly impressed that the mock-alligator scales covering his lower half weren't doing more to impede his movements… She really had to hand it Kakei – today's handiwork had truly surpassed any of her wildest notions of potion capabilities. She wasn't entirely sure if she was most impressed by the slick sheen of the scales, their impeccably mimicry of such a dangerous wild beast, or the downy white fuzz that had sprouted over most of his hair bed and splayed out in the most adorable little tufts at the ends of his now long, floppy ears (surely Kakei must have gotten must have gotten assistance from one of the conjurers to make those – she was fairly certain that potions couldn't pull off such localized effects, but she was happy to award extra point for style just the same). He was a stunning portrait in nonsense, and looked appropriately dumbfounded by the role.

But now was not the time to admire her potion master's skill. "Watanuki," she said sternly and sidestepped a flying tea cup which exploded into shards against the doorframe, "Every single last one of these dishes are going to be added onto your debt if you don't stop abusing poor Doumeki this instant."

Watanuki's eyes narrowed briefly before his arm swung out once again to let fly a dinner plate. " _Doumeki_?" he scoffed, eyes darting wildly around the room, "No, I'm trying to hit that little black piece of shi-"

"Yuuko!" The black Mokona suddenly burst out from beneath the cover of the baker's rack, a metal colander upturned over its head like an ill-fitting crown. In the blink of an eye, he had landed comfortably atop Yuuko's shoulder and yanked open one of his normally lidded eyes to complete the rude gesture its flopping tongue had begun. "Watanuki is trying to kill Mokona!" he wailed.

Yuuko glanced between the small ball of fluff cowering on her shoulder and the angry, twitching mess of a man across the kitchen. "And why," she wondered, addressing the question to neither of them in particular, "Would he do that?"

Mokona grinned and coughed up a lush red velvet robe and cigar. "Because he didn't like my present!"

Yuuko glanced back at Watanuki, who had gripped a sizable gravy boat and was hefting it in a manner that implied homicidal intent. She raised an eyebrow back at Mokona, "Those make for an… _interesting_  gift combination."

"It's so the playboy can take his bunny for a canter!" Mokona shrieked and tipped back against Yuuko's neck, howling with laughter.

Yuuko continued to stare at the small creature with a quirked eyebrow. "You're losing your touch, you know," she said after Mokona had calmed down somewhat, "You're far more clever when you're not snogging random strangers in the forest like a desperate little trollop." She snatched the cigar out of Mokona's hands and ran it beneath her nose, "This is quite good, Watanuki. I have to say you're worse off for not accepting it." She snapped her fingers to conjure a small flame and lit the end, sucking deeply as the smoke blossomed around the glowing embers. "Much worse off," she mumbled happily, blowing the smoke into large rings, "But more importantly, I have an errand I need you to run for me."

Watanuki gaped and set the gravy boat back on the counter before it slipped from his grip. "What, right now?"

"No," Yuuko answered languidly, thoroughly enjoying the cigar, "You'll leave tomorrow morning. It's quite a distance from here, so Doumeki will be going with you." She glanced around the kitchen meaningfully, "For now, I'll expect you to help Chii with tidying this mess up."

"It would be faster if I went myself, if it's so far away," Watanuki grumbled.

"No," Yuuko chuckled lightly, sending smoke spiraling up around her, "It's best if the two of you go together. That way you can get your little  _canter_  in." She grinned wickedly and quickly held up a hand to cut off the screams of protest that were working their way up through Watanuki's abdomen. "Clean the kitchen quickly," she continued, "And I'll consider sending one of the Mokonas with you. And a map."

And with that, she turned on her heel and wandered back toward the dining room. She could really do with a glass of wine after all this shouting.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to Konnichipu/Bottan for writing the poetry in this chapter :P

_I swear to thee, by Cupid's strongest bow,_   
_By his best arrow with the golden head,_   
_By the simplicity of Venus' doves,_   
_By that which knitteth souls and prospers loves,_   
_And by that fire which burn'd the Carthage queen,_   
_When the false Troyan under sail was seen,_   
_By all the vows that ever men have broke,_   
_In number more than ever women spoke,_   
_In that same place thou hast appointed me,_   
_To-morrow truly will I meet with thee._

~ A Midsummer Night's Dream, Act I; scene i

* * *

The sun was already high in the sky when Kurogane arrived at Queen Yuuko's palace. He was exhausted, having spent the previous night combing through every single café, pub, and burlesque house Fay had been known to frequent in the old days. He had even traipsed all the way back to the hovel they had shared in exile, but had found the rooms empty and no trace of Fay anywhere.

He swallowed thickly and eyed the twisted vine gates. This was truly a last resort – he wasn't even certain the queen would grant him an audience after everything that had transpired – but he was certain that Fay must have returned the meat-bun-rabbit-thing to Her Highness, and as such, that left her as his last known contact. It was a long shot, and likely to leave him emotionally scarred for the foreseeable future, but the threat of more sleepless night loomed over his head if he didn't at least _try_.

"Good afternoon and welcome to Queen Yuuko's Palace," an imperious voice barked from overhead, "If you would please state your name and rank after the tone, we would be more than happy to assist you with direction during your visit." As he finished speaking, an obnoxious _**GONG**_ sounded.

Kurogane squinted and shaded his eyes as he looked up toward the voice. An altogether too serious looking fairy (for the amount of drivel he had just spewed, at any rate) with monstrous blue and white armored beetle wings hovered just above his head, staring down with a sneer completely inappropriate for someone carrying such an obnoxiously _large_ bell (with apparent difficulty, Kurogane smirked). "Captain Kurogane, special task force number 87," he answered with a matching curl of his lip.

The fairy didn't bother to hide his amusement, "One of the humans' guards, huh? And what's your business here? Do you have a summons?"

"No," Kurogane ground out, irritation building at the bug-boy's attitude, "I am looking for an audience with Her Majesty and-"

_**GONG**_ "And you thought you would just waltz in here to ask?" the fairy raised an eyebrow and folded his free arm across his chest (the other still flailing wildly with the ongoing vibration of the gong), "She is a bit busy, you know. You'll need to get something in writing before-"

"Takeshiiii~!"

Kurogane turned his head just in time to see a red blur heading straight for him and dropped to the ground to avoid a collision. He struggled to his feet a few seconds later, puzzled as to why there had been no loud crash following the barreling bit of…what the hell had that been, exactly? He squinted up into the sky-

And rolled to the side to avoid the gong dropping down on him at an alarming rate. The metal disc bounced once with a fantastic _**CLANG**_ and embedded itself into the bark of a nearby oak tree. Kurogane rubbed his head and stared at the impact, wondering with no small amount of distain just why the guard would allow someone to carry it who wasn't even able to protect it… Wasn't even able to protect himself, from the look of things; he could barely make out the guard's thrashing movements from behind the onslaught of arms and legs and…strangely coordinated _red_ beetle-wings. Another guard? But then why were they… _wrestling_ – in midair, nonetheless – like that?

"Takeshi!" the red-winged guard admonished (and now Kurogane could see the intricately tied lunch box he carried with him), "You haven't been eating properly! And you're all the more cranky for it – did that poor fairy really deserve such gratuitous crabassery from you? I think not! Now, open wide; you need to eat your vegetables! _Say ahhh~_ "

Kurogane eyed the entrance to the palace as the squabbling and kicking and – from the sounds of it – _biting_ continued. There didn't seem to be any other guards on this side of the door. There were doubtless more inside, but he might be able to convince them that since he'd been able to get past the doorman, he clearly had official business to attend to. He glanced back up at the guards-

"Eat the carrot!" the red one was pleading, "If you don't you will go blind. Where will we be then, Takeshi? My dear husband blinded by his hatred for beta carotene!"

"I don't hate carrots! _And I'm not your husband!_ And this is the same argument you tried when you _insisted_ that I would go blind if I kept-"

"And you would have! Besides which, it's so much healthier for you for me to take care of things like that! They say your palms can go hairy as well…"

And that was about enough of that. Kurogane darted through the front gate without wasting another second listening to the newly developing argument over whether it was even _possible_ to tease someone with a carrot. The inside gates were, as he had assumed, were manned by a second battalion of guards, though only their apparent commander deigned to address him. "Papers?" she snipped, lifting an eyebrow.

Kurogane held his hands up, but puffed out his chest at the same time, so as not to appear too submissive. "Captain Kurogane, special task force number 87," he repeated, "I have an appointment-"

" _Papers_ ," she said again, eyes narrowing suspiciously.

"I don't-"

"They're doing it again, aren't they?" she spat, and stormed to an alcove to retrieve an oversized and decidedly evil-looking mallet.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he replied; if she wasn't going to give specifics, then he was all too happy to play along.

"Stay here," she huffed, storming for the gate. "And YOU!" she shouted back at the armor-winged guards lining the corridor, "Make sure _he_ doesn't go anywhere." She stomped out toward the gate, then spun on her heel to address them once more, "And if anyone sees any of the Her Majesty's pets without a leash, you have my permission to kill them on sight!"

The guards saluted their assent and clicked their heels together as she stomped from their sight once again. Kurogane scowled, cursing his luck. He had a name! He had a rank! Why the hell should it be this difficult for an officer to get inside the palace he protected? (Well, okay, maybe he didn't protect _this_ palace specifically, but what was the difference?) He sized up the guards, wondering how many he might be able to subdue, given the right amount of time. The corridor was fairly short, limiting their numbers, and Lord knew he already had the right motivation…

He was in the middle of (silently) debating how best to take down a particularly large, overly-muscled guard when a loud clatter from the end of the corridor caught his attention. It apparently caught the attention of the guards as well – or at least the poorly disciplined amongst them – as the two closest to the racket _tsked_ and _awed_ and stepped away from their posts to investigate. Or perhaps they weren't investigating, per se; from what he could gather from around their massive beetle-wings, they appeared to be helping clean a spilled mess. A servant then, he surmised, albeit an incredibly clumsy one as there didn't appear to be much to trip over. He could make her out a bit more clearly as the guards parted – at least, he _thought_ it was a her; their blond hair was long and their frame slender…and the curve of the jaw…

" _Fay?"_ he nearly exploded before his brain caught up.

He kicked himself a moment later as the servant stood back up, revealing decidedly feminine curves, and cocked her head at him. "Chii?"

"Oh dear, Chii, were you trying to carry all of that yourself?" the unmistakable voice of the Queen sounded from behind him (and practically made Kurogane jump out of his wings), "You poor thing. It's so hard without Watanuki around now, isn't it?"

"Chii was preparing Her Majesty's after-survey drink," the blonde serving girl replied earnestly and smoothed her apron across her torso.

She made a soft-clicking sound with her tongue as she glided past Kurogane, throwing him a long look as she did, "I was wondering when you might show up," she said, eyes sparkling with mischief, "You might have tried making an appointment," she paused, glancing back over her shoulder with an amused smirk, "You'll have to excuse my guards, there was an incident with Mokona awhile back and they haven't been the same since…"

Kurogane gaped. She'd been _expecting_ him? What in the…?

"Well, let's not lurk in the entrance all day, shall we? And please stop gaping at my poor serving girl like some sort of obscene garden fountain," she beckoned him sharply forward, "Why don't you join me for my afternoon drink? We can discuss things then. Chii, please prepare a second seat – and have the Mokonas help you this time." She motioned to the guards as she strode past, "And you – we're going to need someone else on front duty. Erii has knocked them both into concussion again."

* * *

Syaoran buried his face as deeply into his palms as it would go, and then tried and failed for several more inches. He loved his brother. He did. He really, _truly_ did. That didn't keep him from wishing for his death (well, okay, they'd already been through _that_ – perhaps brutal disfigurement was a better trade, here) at this moment.

Also, he was quite certain that talk like this had no place around a luncheon table, much less one set with such fine china in the middle of a royal banquet hall. He was _incredibly_ thankful that no one else had arrived, yet.

"No, no," Eriol was insisting, "That doesn't quite rhyme. It's hard to rhyme a word like 'vagina'… And it's a bit too coarse – it'll completely throw him off his rhythm. How about:

_In times when any other knight_   
_Would wander the lands in search of a fight,_   
_Slaying fierce dragons,_   
_And racing on wagons,_   
_Impressing the ladies with brawn and with might,_   
_Dearest Syaoran landed his greatest success_   
_In convincing the young lord's advisor t' undress._

"Perfect!" Yamazaki exclaimed, slamming his fists into the table and practically jumping out of his seat, "It needs a second verse though – something about slaying the fair maidens with his angry dragon."

"Slaying an angry dragon?" Eriol tapped at his chin, "I'll have to change some of that first verse, then…"

"No, no," Yamazaki waved this away, "Slaying them _with_ his angry dragon."

" _Oh_ ," Eriol grinned, "Yes, that _is_ pretty good. This is going to be a _classic_. Don't you think so, little brother?"

Syaoran groaned and desperately hoped that his soon-to-be brother-in-law wasn't anywhere within earshot. "You two are going to get me killed."

"Oh, no!" Yamazaki blurted, "This is a time honored tradition – a rite of manhood! Did you know that in Yama country they string the bridegroom up by his toes the night before the ceremony and refuse to let him down until his face has swelled to twice its normal size?"

Syaoran balked, "…Why?"

"Well," Yamazaki continued as Eriol nodded profusely in approval, "They have to make sure he's got enough blood to work the old wedding tackle, if you follow my meaning."

Syaoran _didn't_ , in fact, follow his meaning, but he had a distinct feeling that he didn't want to, either. "What does that have to do with, well… _anything_?"

"It means that you ought to be thankful that your dear brother is so schooled in ancient Clow traditions," Eriol answered for him, "Or we might have to resort to Lord Touya's advice for your bachelor party."

"And what was that?" Syaoran gulped, half afraid of the torture the lord had suggested for him and half impressed that Eriol had managed to encounter the lord fully clothed and breathing normally enough to form coherent speech.

"Oh, I'm sure you're happier not knowing," Eriol grinned and folded his hands over his place setting, "Now, how about:

_Once Syaoran had – upon hearing some tale –_   
_The brightest idea of a desperate male_   
_To reach out his dragon to the streaming whirls_   
_In hopes of encountering some mermaiden girls._   
_What he caught with his love stick, instead, was a trout_   
_(Which made him cry "ARGH" and shout rather loud)_   
_And withdrew with his dragon, sadder and thinner,_   
_Sans beautiful girls but at least with some dinner._

Yamazaki clapped politely and dinged the flat of his knife against his water glass for an encore. Syaoran buried his head in his hands. _How was this "praising his virility?"_ So far he'd been paired off with a fish and Yukito– hardly a remarkable list of conquests (though, of the two, he would definitely have preferred Yukito with his bobbling, bouncing, bountiful buttock- _goddamn it, not this again_!). He very much doubted that the women of loose morals down the (non-existant) docks would be impressed – unless they had a certain fondness for trout, which was a remarkably _disturbing_ thought and he let it die quietly in a dark corner of his mind.

"Didn't you like it, Brother?" Eriol inquired sweetly, then sighed into his hands, "No, of course you didn't. You never were very fond of upholding our kingdom's traditions."

Syaoran moved his lips to complain, but was cut off before any sound managed to eek through them.

"I suppose we ought to switch gears then," Eriol declared and reached surreptitiously across the table to refill Yamazaki's wine glass, "Have you given any more thought to your wedding night maneuver?"

Syaoran shook his head and stared at the tablecloth. It really did have the nicest embroidery work he'd ever seen; he wondered if Princess Tomoyo had made it herself, or if there were others in this kingdom as talented as she…

"He's hasn't picked a wedding night maneuver?" Yamazaki sounded completely scandalized by this revelation, "But how are you planning to… _you know_!"

Syaoran _did_ know, and he had no desire to talk about it with either of these two. This was all teetering once again into the realm of "inappropriate dinner conversation" (if they had ever indeed left it…), even if Yamazaki was refraining from outright vulgarity at the moment-

"Dip your stinger in the honey," Eriol helpfully supplied, and hid his grin behind the rim of his glass, "It's not like you can just go dashing in there unprepared." He paused, smiling devilishly at his brother, "Or have you already plundered that hive?"

"No!"

"I didn't think so," Eriol sighed, "You really are such a good boy, Syaoran. I don't see why that Lord Touya gives you so much grief – you think he'd be happy to have a brother-in-law who hasn't the slightest clue of how to navigate his sister's happy valley…" He tapped his fingers thoughtfully against the tabletop, "No, a maneuver is what you need – its faithful execution is the only thing standing between yourself and years of unfulfilling squat jumps in the cucumber patch."

"Squat in the… _what_?"

"Yes," Yamazaki agreed, "You don't want to leave her with only a frothy cucumber fountain – you want to try for something mechanically simple but gracefully choreographed…have you considered the reverse pickled turnip?"

"Oh!" Eriol clapped his hands together, "That _is_ a good one, but he might need to work up to it. To start with, why not give her a salty mustard swipe? Or start with a simple congress of the carrot?"

"Hmm…the congress of the carrot is so boring," Yamazaki sighed, "Did you know the Queen of Piffle had her husband beheaded after 16,000 nights of only carrot congressionals?"

"Well, I have to think there were other issues there as well," Eriol countered, "Though the tale _is_ legend. After all, if you perform the congress correctly, it is _anything_ but boring."

Syaoran gulped, "Correctly?"

"With curry!" Eriol beamed.

"Don't be ridiculous," Yamazaki chuckled, "Everyone knows the congress of the curried carrot has been outlawed for centuries in these parts. I hear the queen has constructed a miniature guillotine for just such transgressions…"

"Oh really?"

"Oh yes! Of course, the locals have come up with their own ways around this. Did you know, I was stopped no less than three times on our journey to the capital by iron underpants peddlers?"

"Yes, yes… _and_?"

_That_ voice was decidedly female, and Syaoran cranked his head around to find a very unhappy looking trio of ladies standing over the opposite end of the table. Or rather, one very unhappy looking Chiharu (who was in the process of wrapping her fingers tightly around Yamazaki's neck in preparation for a good throttling), one completely terrified Sakura, and one giggling Princess Tomoyo.

Eriol, ever the gentleman, rose to greet them. "Princess, lovely ladies of Tomoeda," he bowed to each in turn, "Thank you ever so much for joining us undeserving menfolk for dinner this evening. You must excuse our coarse language earlier – it is the nature of men to speak somewhat loosely in one another's company. It shan't be repeated."

Tomoyo chuckled at this but thanked him. "I think you'll find us quite able to handle your teasing, Master Eriol," she laughed at she seated herself at the head of the table.

Syaoran wasn't so sure this applied to Chiharu, who was now expertly waggling Yamazaki's head about his shoulders and shouting about his lies. Syaoran blinked. _Those had been lies?_ He stood to assist Sakura to her seat next to him – her expression didn't seem to imply that she could handle the teasing either…

She gripped his hand as he reclaimed his seat and his chest filled with warm – it was the first time she'd touched him since their return to the palace. He smiled back at her, though he was certain the red remnants of flusteration were still plainly evident on his face.

"They're… _jokes_?" she whispered.

He nodded reassuringly back, though he was still unsure of that himself. He didn't really want to ask…

Luckily, they were interrupted by the arrival of servants carting lunch and one very overstuffed butler to announce the afternoon's menu. "The first course is a hearty serving of mustard greens, dressed with the finest sweet and salty pickled turnips. Following shall be a light vegetable bisque, flavored with curry and carrot, and for the main course, we have prepared our specialty _derrière de macaque_ in honor of the young Master Li. Dessert shall be a choice of honeyed apples, honeyed dates, and crystallized honeycomb, freshly plundered from the palace hives."

Syaoran stared at his plate as the butler bowed and turned to exit the dining hall. His appetite was suddenly nowhere to be found.

* * *

The landscape was galloping by far too quickly for Watanuki's liking. He was glad that they had moved on out of the forest proper and into a field where most of the wobbling scenery that tended to make him ill was below eyelevel. Truth be told, he'd never really been fond of riding, even where there had been saddles and actual horses involved – now that there was neither, he was finding the activity less pleasant than ever. The fact that he was riding on a pink centaur (the royal potions master had been feeling _exceptionally_ kind that morning) certainly wasn't making it any more bearable. There wasn't a good place to… _grip_ while he rode; despite all of Watanuki's insistence, Doumeki had steadfastly refused to be bridled and wrapping his arms around the centaur's waist was _completely_ out of the question. He'd considered gripping him below the shoulders, but there was the matter of those pesky… _things_ sticking out… _there_ that he had no intention of even _accidentally_ brushing over (why, oh _why_ had he bothered to point out their erasure before?). He settled for digging his fingers into the top of the centaur's shoulders, where they were at least stable…even if they still left his arms extended and his trunk free to sway with each lurching movement.

"Mokona, get back here!" That blasted rabbit-thing was veering evermore out of their sight, twisting and weaving through the tall grass ahead of them without leaving much of a trail to follow. He wouldn't have minded losing the little nuisance so much if it hadn't also confiscated their only map earlier in their journey. Pilfering eggs from a golden goose was not only the most ridiculous errand she'd ever sent him on, it was also the furthest from home and was proving to require with the most convoluted instructions to find as well. And now their map was darting off, nearly an acre in front of them and almost out of sight. He couldn't figure out just _how_ the little beast was managing to outrun a half-horse-thing and that was making him even _more_ flustered-

"He's gone." The galloping quickly came to a halt as Doumeki paused to raise a hand and shield his eyes from the mid-afternoon sun.

"What do you mean 'He's gone?'" Watanuki grumbled, "He's right over there." He waived his hand vaguely in the direction he had last seen the little pest, "Just keep going."

"Do you see him, or are you just guessing?" Doumeki strained to twist himself far enough around to meet Watanuki's eyes, "It's a pretty big field, and it was bouncing all over the place."

"But he was bouncing in that direction," Watanuki insisted and flailed his arm out once more, "So just…keep moving that way and we'll catch up with him."

"I don't know-"

"Of course you don't! Which is why I'm the one making the decisions here" Watanuki kicked at the centaur's flanks with his heels, "Now, come on – YONDER HO!"

"Did you just shout 'Yonder ho?'"

"Shut up."

"Alright," Doumeki sighed as his hooves picked up the pace once again. He was moving much faster than was necessary, Watanuki decided, probably out of some latent desire to send his rider flying without having to resort to bucking. Well, he'd have to work a lot harder than that. Watanuki dug his fingers deeper into Doumeki's shoulders and pinched his thighs tighter about his back – there was no way in hell he was budging from his mount-

So it was that he was still clinging tightly in place when the first of Doumeki's hooves struck a log hidden within the high grass. And he was still clinging as the first of the centaur's legs bent under his gate, only managing to roll to the side at the last moment to avoid being crushed by the large horse's ass bearing down upon him.

* * *

Lord Touya paced the balcony walkway, occasionally stealing a suspicious peek between the half-cracked doors of the dining hall. He'd refused an invitation, preferring instead to take his lunch in his chambers (as he was finding he preferred taking everything lately; it was very strange), but that didn't mean he couldn't shoot death glares at his sister's now-fiancé from afar. He doubted the little bastard would see him, but he hoped the gesture would at least send icy shivers of dread down the brat's spine.

He'd been tricked – that much was certain. He didn't have a clear idea of what had all gone on during that night in the woods, only that he'd woken up where he hadn't fallen asleep and his mind had been nothing but a pulsing throb of… _wantonness_ since waking. He was certain that little brat had slipped him something, though he had no idea what it might have been and he had been too otherwise occupied to confront him about (and to fling about the wild and baseless accusations he felt were appropriate).

Yukito seemed happy with the turn of events, however, and that was definitely a good thing.

_A very good thing_ , he decided as a slender arm wrapped around his waist. After a bit of shuffling, Yukito's head emerged from beneath his arm on the opposite side, his shoulders following quickly thereafter as he twisted himself into position between Touya and the banister.

"You're doing it again," his voice was amused, but his eyes remained serious enough that Touya supposed he had better find a better way to spend his afternoon if he didn't want a surly advisor slung around his neck.

"Sorry," Touya muttered, though it was somewhat of a lie.

"To-ya!" Yukito admonished, and gave him a gentle shove backward. Touya rolled with the momentum back into the stone wall, where he coughed and held up his hands in mock defeat. "Are you really so angry?" Yukito murmured as he slid himself back into Touya's chest.

Touya considered this. On one hand, _yes_ – absolutely. _On the other…_

He weaved his fingers through Yukito's hair and pulled him in for a chase kiss on the forehead. "No," he grumbled halfheartedly, "I suppose I'm not."

"Well that's a relief," Yukito breathed and pulled back slightly to cock an eyebrow, "What is it that you're so worried about him for? His brother has returned – or so I've heard – and there doesn't seem to be any sort of foul play involved..."

Touya's eyes grew momentarily wide. He'd thought it was obvious that the missing siblings had been nothing more than a handy excuse on his part, and didn't especially think it needed a detailed explanation… "You remember the cream from breakfast?" he asked, rather than try to explain.

"Mmm _h - oh_."

"That."

"Oh," Yukito paused, "But she'd do that with anyone she married, To-ya," he socked him playfully in the chest again, "Are you telling me this would have continued with every suitor?"

Touya looked shifty, "…Possibly."

"Well thank heavens for foul play."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," Yukito smiled and slipped his arm around Touya's elbow, subtly pulling him back toward their rooms, "Only that I'm glad I won't have even _more_ women to compete with in the future."

"Wasn't much of a competition," Touya scoffed and pulled his arm back slightly, "She was terrifying."

"Oh, I don't know," Yukito renewed his efforts and successfully hauled Touya back into the room, "I thought she was quite lovely, you know? She had this nice little-" he paused to make an obscene gesture, "-and these great-" another obscene gestured followed.

"What are you saying?" Touya slammed the door shut and gripped Yukito's wrist with his free hand, "That I don't have a nice-" _obscene gesture_ , "Hmm?"

"Well, that I couldn't say…I'd better have another look."

" _Hmph_." Touya grinned to himself. Perhaps that little brat knew what he had been doing, after all.

And there would be _years_ to come in which to pay him back…

* * *

Watanuki cursed whatever gods were mocking him, even as he thanked them all the same for sparing him death-by-equus-maximus. He strained his eyes over the horizon in despair, shielding them from the afternoon sun and cursing that little rat Mokona for disappearing into the wilderness.

He turned back to his fallen companion. "Are you _sure_ you can't move it?"

"If I could move it, I wouldn't have spent the past half hour on the ground," Doumeki grumbled back at him. His right front leg stil lay sprawled out in front of him, where Watanuki had dragged it half an hour earlier; the knuckle joint above the hoof was swollen and raw-looking, and Watanuki had to work to pry his eyes away from the grotesque angle it made with the remainder of his leg. This was much worse than either of them was willing to admit out loud. Assuming Doumeki could get back to his feet (which he couldn't), it was still half a day's march back to anywhere where they might find treatment. Watanuki might be able to head back on his own to find a doctor, but that left the centaur in the awkward position of spending the night, defenseless and alone, in a field with no cover from the bears and jaguars that roamed the forest edges.

Watanuki bit his lip and paced around Doumeki's back-horse-end. The icy fingers of guilt were wrapping slowly, painfully around his throat; _this was all his fault_. If he hadn't been in such a hurry to catch that blasted Mokona, this never would have happened…

He sighed and kicked at the grass. What the hell was even supposed to _do_ here? He may not have been _fond_ of the centaur by any stretch of the imagination, but he certainly didn't want him injured and he didn't want him left out in a field overnight-

"Just put me down."

"What?" Watanuki spun on his heel, "How much more down can you _go_?"

"No," Doumeki grunted, " _Put me down._ Out of my misery. Like you're supposed to do to old horses."

"Don't be an idiot," Watanuki snapped. He certainly didn't want _that_ either. Goddamn it, why the hell did he even care? This was a quick and easy way to be rid of the nuisance forever. Blasted _humanity_. Blasted _compassion_. Yuuko had always insisted they were his best traits, but at the moment he certainly felt life would be easier without them. "I'll figure something out. Don't go getting too comfortable there. If you fall asleep, I'll…I'll…"

"Good evening, gentlemen. We've been expecting you."

"Heh?" Watanuki spun back to face the exact spot he'd been staring at only moments before to find it occupied by the strangest….girl, he supposed, that he'd ever seen. She _looked_ human enough – she lacked fairy wings, at any rate, which was usually a good indicator – but her golden, tumbling hair was threaded through with vines…that by all appearances seemed to be growing directly from her head. He dress – long and free-flowing, without any bells or whistles or even ties for that matter – was more akin to the clothing he was used to seeing in the forest than anything he'd ever seen a human wear (though in truth, he hadn't seen many humans of late, so he could easily have been mistaken). He gaped for a second, trying to place her amongst the forest lore he had tried so hard to devour in Yuuko's libraries. "Wood sprite?" he asked at last, dragging a hand through his hair nervously.

She smiled back at him and took a step forward, "Kind of," she said gently, "You can call me Kohane. My grandmother and I received word from the queen that you would be passing by here today and asked that we shelter you for the night. It was getting awfully long past noon and we hadn't seen you yet, so I came to look…"

_Kind of?_ What kind of an answer was that? And what did she mean "received word from the queen?" He hadn't received word! He hadn't received _anything_! What was that meddlesome queen up to this time? Or, worse, was this girl a con artist? She certainly didn't seem as suspicious as that blasted centaur did, but then again…

_That blasted centaur._ "Well," he sputtered nervously, "We kind of hit a stumbling block. Or a stumbling log, as it were. My, uh, _friend_ here is hurt pretty bad. I don't think he can walk."

"Oh no!" Kohane gasped and moved to inspect Doumeki's swollen ankle, "Can you move it at all?" She looked dismayed as Doumeki shook his head _no_. "I see," she said sadly, "Well, we might be able to help dress it at home, and from there we can at least help you to a doctor in the morning."

"R-really?" Watanuki stammered, his face lighting up in spite of himself, "That would be so…so….wonderful! Um, is there anything I can help with in the mean time? Do you need someone to go back to the village with you to find someone to help move him or anything?"

Kohane blinked back at him, confused. "We don't live near a village," she said simply, and hauled Doumeki's front legs up over her shoulders – gently, so as not to upset the injury any further – "And I don't think I should need any help moving him."

"What are you…?" Watanuki coughed, "You're far too small to lift such a huge beast! Don't- I mean, you're going to put your back…out…" He stared in dumbstruck fascination as she – seemingly effortlessly – hefted the centaur's bulk on to her tiny shoulders and started off across the field.

"It's not far from here," she nodded toward the forest edge, "Come along!"

* * *

"Kurogane," the queen admonished, taking a long sip from her goblet, "I did ask you to stop gaping at my serving girl, did I not?"

"Sorry," Kurogane breathed, still not paying his full attention to his monarch. The resemblance was astonishing – it wasn't only the hair, but the face as well; if Fay had been female, this is exactly the appearance he would have taken (apart from the cat-ears, but those were easy enough to overlook). He fought to pry his eyes away as she set a goblet for him on the table and reached for the wine. "She just looks so…familiar."

The queen laughed heartily at this. "Yes, I suppose she does," she agreed and set her glass to rest on the table, leaning over it to pull his attention back toward her, "Though it's often said that children of fire closely resemble their 'parents.'"

"What do you mean?" Kurogane wondered, toying with the stem of his glass. He was far too used to cryptic conversations that never seemed to go anywhere, despite his best efforts to force the other party to talk _sense,_ to expect a straight answer. And he wouldn't be disappointed here, either.

"I think you should know the answer to that."

Kurogane sighed and gulped his drink. Parents and fire…what the hell was he supposed to get from that? As far as he knew, Fay didn't have any children and the only fire he'd been involved in had stemmed from…

_Shit_.

"How," he stammered, his goblet clanking ungracefully back onto the table, "How… _old_ is she?"

The queen smiled serenely back at him. "Chii is six years old, though to fairy eyes she appears almost full-grown," she grinned widely back at him, "She's a cat sprite."

"How," he started and fumbled once again. This couldn't actually be _real_ ; the _idea_ that Fay's dabbling into creation magic had actually borne fruit was insane enough on its own…to actually see that being standing here in front of him was enough to make him sniff again at his goblet for hallucinogens. "I thought that all- That is, that _failed_ , didn't it?" He hadn't even wondered if it was possible that Fay might have succeeded; even if he _had_ , the destruction of the forest around them had been so utterly complete – lost to a ravaging hurricane of wind and flame – that _they_ had been lucky to survive. If it hadn't been for the arrival of Her Majesty and her guard… " _You_ spared her."

"Of course I did," the queen looked politely offended, "You make it sound like I am prone to killing off my subjects."

"That's not what I meant," Kurogane stammered, "You _saved_ her. But you never said-"

"No, I didn't," she agreed, "You burned down nearly a quarter of the forest, Kurogane. Despite the fact that fire is necessary for creation magic to work, it doesn't excuse the destruction of so much of our home, and, as per the law, you were exiled for a century. An exceptionally _short_ century in your case, but that was the sentence nonetheless. What responsibility I had there was to her, not to a couple of convicted criminals." Her face softened, "And it would only have tormented him more…"

" _Tche_ ," Kurogane scoffed, "Somehow I doubt that was high on your list of priorities."

She laughed at this and shook her head, "Now, now. One of my points of pride as the ruler of such a _small_ population is that I am able to take a direct interest in my subjects. And Fay has lived amongst the royal magicians for so long – ever since their mother abandoned he and Yuui to run away with a centaur…" she paused, looking thoughtful, "That's nearly 500 years, now."

Kurogane balked. Who the hell was Yuui? And Fay was 500 years old? How the hell was that even possible – he still acted like a goddamned child most days! He'd never mentioned any of this, and Kurogane would have never even _thought_ to have asked (it wasn't like sordid family histories like this were _common_ ), even if he hadn't been so busy grumbling and stomping about the place. The cold fingers of guilt were creeping up his spine at this – he ought to have known _something_ , at least.

"Yuui was his twin brother," the queen supplied, and Kurogane could only assume that his confusion had crawled into a twisted mass on his face, "Though I'm not surprised he didn't mention him. Fay hasn't spoken his name since his death – probably a good 200 years before you were born, Kurogane."

Kurogane swallowed. _So that was it…_ "How did he die?" he murmured, somewhat afraid of the answer.

The queen shook her head sadly. "Senseless accident. A lightning strike during a routine phoenix census – it probably wouldn't have been fatal if he hadn't fallen so _far_ ," she closed her eyes, "No one was able to reach him in time, though it seems Fay still holds himself personally responsible."

Kurogane sighed. It would be just _like_ that idiot to blame himself for something beyond his control, as well. This, at least, explained his fear of heights. And why he refused to get close to anyone…

"You should know better than most just how… _destructive_ the death of loved ones can be for we fairies," she said calmly, "After all, your exile might have started much sooner, been much longer, and certainly far more lonely had the half-human princess not managed to work some of her own magic on you." She leaned in over her glass once again, face twisting with a mischievous grin, "But I'm surprised you didn't know this already, Kurogane. You seemed like such an _astute_ fairy."

Kurogane grimaced at this, mostly because he knew it was true and didn't want to admit it to a pompous, ill-tempered fairy who showed off far more of her wing-span than was appropriate to her station… But she was his Queen, after all, and he owed her due deference. "Yeah," he agreed, simply and without making specific concessions.

"And now you've been returned to your original form and reinstated to your guard…" she trailed off, lifting an eyebrow, "And yet I still find you darkening my doorway, gaping at my serving girl who looks so much like your dear friend. Might I guess why this is?"

Kurogane shrugged, knowing full well that she was going to make him ask anyway. "I suppose you could. I haven't been able to find him since, well…since that whole business with the humans. I thought maybe there was a chance he'd come back here – taken up his old post, or something."

The queen frowned back at him. "No, he hasn't taken up his old post, though he has conferred with some of my more trusted magicians as of late... It's a shame – I had hoped he would come back to us. It's a rare being indeed that can successfully perform creation magic – we had hoped to nurture that talent once the price had been paid." she paused and stretched, unfolding her hands across the table as she settled back into her chair, "Have you considered that you might be looking for the wrong thing?"

"What do you mean 'wrong thing?'" And now they were back to cryptic bullshit…

"I mean, Kurogane," she fixed him with a stern gaze, "That I _assume_ , as you have come here, that you have searched everywhere else. And I also _assume_ that you are looking for a _fairy_."

"What else should I be looking for?" Hadn't the idiot been transformed back? Had he done something _else_?

"This is the type of information that comes with a price, Kurogane," she grinned, "Is this important enough to you that you're willing to pay it?"

He considered this for a moment. Everything was always about "prices" with her – he supposed he couldn't fault her for (so _thoroughly_ ) embracing the necessary cost-benefit analyses that went hand in hand with being a ruler, but her terms were more often than not ridiculous and not, he suspected, dictated by anything more than her whims. Now that he knew he wasn't looking for a fairy, he could at least eliminate that from his list…but there were still so many creatures in the forest, and without any clear idea…

He wasn't going back home alone, though, that was for damn sure.

"Yes," he growled, his determination growing, "I'll pay. Now tell me."

"Very well," she smiled and rose to her feet, gracefully floating across the room to a less furnished corner and beckoning to him, "Come over here then."

He followed her lead and joined her, looking suspiciously around him as he did. "What is this?" he grumbled. Why couldn't ( _wouldn't_ ) she just _tell_ him?

"Your price," she assured him, and plucked a wand from her inner robes, "Now, I should warn you that I am not a professional, but any mistakes made here will certainly be corrected by my court magicians."

" _Wha_ -"

"Also, today begins the rutting season. You'll want to be prepared, of course."

"What in the hell are you talk-" But before he could finish, sparks flew from the tip of her wand, surrounding and tugging him in every direction at once. And then, the world went dark.


	10. Chapter 10

_Now it is the time of night_   
_That the graves all gaping wide,_   
_Every one lets forth his sprite_

_A Midsummer Night's Dream, Act V; Scene i_

* * *

Watanuki arrived at a massive oak tree some minutes behind Kohane, panting and sweating from the effort of keeping up with the spritely girl (with the giant centaur on her shoulders). He gaped at her in amazement; how in the world had she managed…with that gigantic…useless… _lug_ … He collapsed against the side of the tree, holding his sides and gasping for breath.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Kohane squeaked, and crouched to get a better look at his face, "I went too fast, didn't I?"

"No, no," Watanuki coughed, "It's fine. I'm…fine…"

"He's fine," Doumeki agreed.

" _No one asked you, you lump of-"_

"Kohane, is that you?" Watanuki had some difficulty ascertaining precisely _where_ this voice was calling from. It sounded for all the world as if it were coming from inside the tree itself, and so he was only moderately surprised when the great, rounded scar at the front of the tree swung open to reveal a remarkably small lady, bent and withered with age and leaning heavily against a walking stick. "Oh my," she said, clucking her tongue at the sight of Doumeki, still hefted against Kohane's shoulders, and Watanuki panting for breath. "Well, it seems you've found them, at least," she waved behind her, inside the tree, "Better bring them inside then; looks like things have gotten a bit complicated."

Watanuki followed the old woman and Kohane through the doorway into a surprisingly spacious living area. He checked quickly back over his shoulder – he was fairly certain that the tree hadn't looked _this_ big from the outside… No, this was definitely some sort of magic at work here, though it was stronger than the sorts he was used to seeing around the palace. _Kind of a wood sprite_ , _indeed_. He followed closely on her heels, through a long hallway and into a side room, where she settled Doumeki carefully in a corner to take a closer look at his injured foot.

"You're welcome to use this room as well," the old woman said as she joined them, carrying a large wicker basket full of salves and bandages, "I apologize for not being able to offer more, but it's normally only Kohane and myself here."

"No, no!" Watanuki spread his hands in front of him, waggling his fingers apologetically, "T-thank you so much. I don't know what we would have done if Kohane hadn't come along."

"Oh, don't you worry about a thing, dear," she assured him with a smile, brushing past as she made her way toward Doumeki's sprawl in the corner, "Yuuko did let us know you'd be by, after all. But, there's always room for surprises." She settled herself down on the floor and plucked a jar from the basket, taking the hoof lightly into her hand. "Let's see now," she mumbled to herself, "This does not look good…" She clucked her tongue worriedly as she pressed around the swelling, finally shaking her head with a disapproving sigh and turning back to Kohane. "Dear, will you take Watanuki out into the den while I take care of this? There's a package there that I pulled out earlier this morning."

"Of course, Grandmother," Kohane said softly and grasped Watanuki's hand to lead him from the room. He followed, still not certain what to make of this entire situation. Knowing Yuuko, this package was probably some sort of rare wine that she'd remembered was here after she'd already sent them away. Or worse, some sort of ingredient for her potions master to try out once they returned…

He was surprised, then, when she lead him into a small room filled with shelves and stacks overflowing with books and plucked the most inconspicuous one amongst them – a small, dirty rag of a thing – from a table to hand him. He stared at the ratty leather cover and for a long moment, uncertain if he was meant to open it, or simply deliver it. His eyes flicked back to Kohane-

She was smiling at him expectantly.

"Um," he tripped over his own tongue, "Should I…?"

"Of course you should," she answered before he could find the words to form the question, "That _is_ what books are for, after all."

"Uh," he stammered, fanning the pages with his thumb, "Alright." Something in this room was making his stomach queasy, he decided, and stalked back toward the doorway. "Is it alright if I…?"

"Oh," Kohane said, stepping quickly back out of his way, "Of course. There's the main room, or you can go back to the guest room if you'd like."

Watanuki considered this – one on hand, he really would like to know that the big lug was alright, or at least mendable… On the other, he was beginning to feel like the queasiness wasn't so much related to anything in this room, so much as it was whatever the book in his hand contained. This was especially troublesome, as it didn't appear to be anything more than a simple book – nothing at all like the books of spells and curses he had flitted through in the royal libraries. "I'll…" he stared down at the yellowing pages, "I'll stay out in the main room, if that's alright."

"Of course," she nodded and motioned down the hallway, "I'll prepare you something for dinner. We don't have much, but it seems you've had a long day and could use a warm meal." She directed him to a large, overstuffed chair beneath a window he was quite certain hadn't had a counterpart on the outside of the tree and left him for the kitchen.

He settled in and flipped open the cover to stare at the first page.

* * *

**_The Very Secret Diary of Kimihiro Li_ **

* * *

It was an innocuous enough title, he supposed, and it really shouldn't have been conjuring the pants-wetting terror he felt deep within his being… And it probably wouldn't have, had it not been written in his own handwriting. He swallowed harshly and flipped the page over. Rather than launching into a description of the day's events or an angst filled rage, as most diaries were wont to do, there was a harshly scribbled note across the page.

* * *

_Goddamn it Eriol, this MEANS YOU. STAY OUT OF MY THINGS. If I find out you have been reading this to dig up more material to tell the girls at court about me I swear I will kick you so hard your testicles will be lodged inside your brain so deep not even the surgeons can find them. I am not your laughing boy_ _!_ _I will bring down a reign of terror upon your head_ _!_ _I'M SERIOUS. TURN BACK NOW OR BE CURSED FOR ALL ETERNITY._

* * *

… _What a_ spazz _._ (And why, _why, WHY_ were there pink centaurs scribbled in the margins?) The following pages were more of the same – the inane rambling and ranting of a teenager tormented by his older brother padded by scribbled recipes for sweets and knitting patterns. It wasn't terribly interesting (although the entry – scribbled in all capital letters – about the incident involving a hamster, watermelon, and garden fountain really had been quite funny), and certainly didn't seem like the kind of thing Yuuko would find important for him to read, so he flipped ahead to the end pages.

* * *

**_June 26, Clow 129_ **

_**Stiches knit:** 0_   
_**Days without a girlfriend:** 6,661_   
_**Squirrels(?) fought:** 16_   
_**Days since Eriol's disappearance:** 895_

_Dear Diary_

_Returned to Outo after three days spent camping in the damned woods. Fleas in unmentionable places. Still no sign of Eriol, and no one in this godforsaken pit of a town seems to know anything about him either. Managed to find work washing dishes at the local inn – will head back out into Cephiro Forest in a few days time, but really need money for supplies this time. Can't take the risk that I'll be lost for days again – who knows what other parasites lurk in the forest's depths? Also – must find some better way of fending off the local squirrels (at least, I think they were squirrels – they had awfully sharp teeth… Note to self: ask someone about this)._

_Lots of love,_   
_Kimihiro_

* * *

He balked at this, feeling that it was all _horribly_ familiar…

But, _no_ – this was just a strange book written by someone – some whiny, spazzy, idiot – who happened to have handwriting that was remarkably similar to his own! It probably happened all the time… _right_?

He flipped to the middle pages, intrigued despite himself and needing to know just what had sent the author off on a journey to find the brother – he was very sure it was a _brother_ , though he wasn't sure why – he had spent so much time railing against in the beginning pages. The middle pages didn't contain much information about _that_ , but the recipes and patterns which had interrupted the whining in the earlier pages were now replaced with intricately scrawled maps, all drawn free-hand with wavering lines connecting crossed-off city names. Probably cities he'd been to; there were several others, much further to the south than the last pages indicated he'd traveled, that had been starred and circled. Watanuki traced his fingers over the pathways, starting from… _way out west in Clow?_ What a ridiculous journey to make…this had better be good… He flipped back a few pages, to just before the maps began making an appearance.

* * *

**_December 22, Clow 126_ **

_**Stiches knit:** 362_   
_**Days without a girlfriend:** 6,110_   
_**Humiliations suffered at the hands of my brother:** billions and billions_

_Dear Diary,_

_He's ruined the Winter Solstice again_ _!_ _Every year it's the same…he ends up surrounded by an adoring gaggle of our cousins and I end up sitting alone in the corner darning the holes they've all worked into their socks hauling out the Yule log. It was MY turn to tell stories around the fire this year, dammit. And of course he has to ruin it with his "Kimihiro's best story is a dissertation on how to more effectively dust his rooms." Jerk. And then he tells them all the same story he's been telling since we were small about great, great, great grandfather Clow Reed and the fairy lady. Silly romantic drivel. It seems to have gotten more graphic lately too – I don't remember hearing anything about just how *wide* her wingspan was when I was younger. Oh_ _!_ _And he's now tacked on some stupid ending about Clow being reborn after 100 years and setting off to find his true love once again. Why are they all so entertained by this? What's wrong with dusting?_

_Lots of Love,_   
_Kimihiro_

* * *

_Good gods_ _this guy had issues_ , though he had to admit he was hard pressed to find anything wrong with dusting. He sighed and flipped a few more pages back toward the maps.

* * *

**_January 20, Clow 127_ **

_**Stitches knit:** 689_   
_**Days without a girlfriend:** 6,139_   
_**Days since Eriol disappeared:** 5_

_Dear Diary,_

_No one in this household wants to listen to a damned word I try to tell them. Mother and Father are convinced that Eriol was carried off by bandits in the middle of the night and there seems to be little that I can do to convince them otherwise. Syaoran is under lock and key (as he's now the only one of us with an apparent chance of passing on the family name) and I…I don't know what to do._

_I took the books and journals I found in Eriol's room to Mother, but she dismissed them as rubbish. Am I the only one who recognizes exactly how sick my brother is? He not only tells that stupid story about Clow Reed and the fairy lady at every opportunity, he actually believes it to be true_ _!_ _I always knew there was something off about him (the obsession with shoujo manga was a big tip off), but I never thought he would be delusional enough to think he was the reincarnation of our ancestor… I really think he's gone off in search of this fairy woman. He's somewhere in the wilderness, crazy and alone and probably reading more shoujo manga to feed his delusions._

_I-_

_I can't let him be alone. I can't let him just disappear like this. He's my brother, no matter how many reptile eggs he's put in my breakfast cereal or rodents he's put in my trousers. I'll start preparations tomorrow to search for him. He can't have gotten that far._

_Lots of Love,_   
_Kimihiro_

* * *

_Clow_. He _knew_ that name. He _hated_ that name…

" _You always do pick the finest pets. Looks a lot like Clow, doesn't he?"_

That red haired fairy they'd met in the glade had said that, hadn't she?

_Fairy._

He swallowed thickly against the churning of his stomach and turned the page again, not caring where he landed, so long as it wasn't this. The last of his warmth left him as the repeated scrawls on the page registered in his brain, a progressive neatness to their form, as if they were being practiced over and over again to cement them into familiarity:

* * *

_Watanuki Watanuki Watanuki Watanuki Watanuki Watanuki Watanuki Watanuki Watanuki Watanuki Watanuki Watanuki Watanuki Watanuki Watanuki Watanuki Watanuki Watanuki Watanuki Watanuki Watanuki Watanuki Watanuki Watanuki Watanuki Watanuki Watanuki Watanuki Watanuki Watanuki Watanuki Watanuki Watanuki Watanuki Watanuki Watanuki Watanuki Watanuki Watanuki Watanuki Watanuki Watanuki Watanuki Watanuki Watanuki Watanuki Watanuki Watanuki Watanuki Watanuki Watanuki Watanuki Watanuki Watanuki Watanuki Watanuki Watanuki Watanuki Watanuki Watanuki Watanuki Watanuki Watanuki Watanuki Watanuki Watanuki Watanuki Watanuki Watanuki Watanuki_

* * *

He slammed the book closed and dropped it to the floor like a poisonous thing. What in the hell was this? What was Yuuko playing at, wanting him to read something like this? Moreover, why was he in such denial? He knew goddamned well that-

_NO._

"Everything alright in here?" Kohane's head peeked around an archway, face falling at the sight of him. Whatever she had held in her hands dropped to the floor with a loud clatter as she darted around the corner to him, stopping to pick the book up from the floor before clasping his hands. "What's wrong?" she pleaded.

"I…" he staggered to his feet again, taking the book back and clutching it tightly against his chest, "Nothing. I'm…going to go read this in the other room for awhile, if that's alright."

"Of course," she said, not letting go his hands just yet, "I'll bring you some dinner in awhile, please make yourself comfortable-"

"That's alright," he said without thinking, "I mean, thank you very much, but I'm not hungry. I'm sure that busted up fool would like something though…"

"Alright…"

He shook himself free of her and made his way, slowly and shakily, back to the guest room. The grandmother was still seated on the floor before Doumeki, winding a long bandage around the swelling of his ankle and chastising him for being so reckless as Watanuki collapsed wordlessly onto the bed, eyes still fixed on the journal. She regarded him with sad eyes for a moment before tying the bandages off and rising to her feet. "Is there anything I can do for you, dear?"

"No," he shook his head and sank back into the mattress, "Thank you." He needed to…he didn't know. He needed to read more of this. He didn't want to read more of this. He could really use a nap…

"Yuuko had hoped that your memories would come back on their own, before that journal found its way back to you. She was afraid it would be too much for you to handle," she smiled kindly down at him and bushed a lock of hair from his face, "But it seems that will not be the way."

Watanuki swallowed again, "So then…these are...this is…"

"That is the journal we found we with you, nearly three years ago. Yuuko asked me to keep it here in my library, as she does most of her precious texts. She sent word this morning that it was time you had it back, my dear boy."

"I-" his face fell. So this was it – the restoration of his memories. It was far from what he had hoped; he didn't feel any connection to what was in this book – it was all just a _story_ … How was he supposed to believe…? "Thank you. Again," he said at long last, "I'd like to read the rest, if that's alright."

She smiled and nodded, then turned to join Kohane in the kitchen.

* * *

"Hold still, just one more pin."

Sakura held back a sigh, which would have expanded her ribcage more than the millimeter necessary for Tomoyo's large, thick and above all else unforgiving pins to bridge the gap into her flesh. She frowned instead, and twisted her neck as far as she could without moving the rest of her torso toward the night-gown-clad princess squatting to her side. Tomoyo was lost in her own world for the moment, eyes narrowed with focus and lips pinched tightly around her excess pins; Sakura didn't have the heart to interrupt her while she was working like this and waited until the last of the pins had been set. "You really don't need to go to so much trouble," she murmured and tried to smile.

"Don't be silly," Tomoyo climbed back to her feet in a hurry to tug against all the adjustments she had just made in the white satin, ensuring each one held in place until she could finalize her stitches, "What else would I be doing at one in the morning?"

"Oh," Sakura considered this, "Right. It's just…"

Tomoyo paused in her fussing and turned Sakura around to face her. "What's wrong?" she frowned deeply on seeing her friend's face.

"Oh Tomoyo," Sakura half-sobbed (the bodice of the dress was holding in her far too tight for the unrestrained upheaval that was threatening her with every breath she took), "I don't think I can do this."

Tomoyo smiled and wiped a tear away from Sakura's eye, "Do what? Stand here for another hour? Because I can make it two if that's better…"

Sakura laughed half-heartedly, "I'll go for three if I don't have to get married."

"Where is this coming from?" Tomoyo frowned and hurriedly began gathering the restrictive material from around her friend, "You were ready to run away a week ago. Did something happen?"

"No," Sakura was only too happy to be able to breathe freely once again, "I just…" she trailed off as tears started falling in earnest.

"It's alright," Tomoyo soothed, dabbing at Sakura's eyes with a handkerchief, "No one is forcing you to get married. In fact, I know of at least one person who would probably be a whole lot happier if you didn't. But you were so happy with Syaoran – what went wrong."

"Nothing went wrong!" Sakura insisted, and stomped away from the dressing station to stare out the window, "I _love_ Syaoran, I really do, but this is all so…so…wrong!"

Tomoyo laid a hand on her shoulder, "What's wrong about it? Are you sure the boys' talk at lunch about cucumbers and curry didn't upset you too much? You know Eriol just stole the lunch menu before he started all of that…"

"I know," Sakura shook her head, "That's not what I meant. I mean…my brother…I haven't seen him in days. I have no idea how he feels about all of this – your sister just decided to go ahead and arrange a triple wedding for all of us. He could hate me and I'd never know…"

"Sakura," Tomoyo said sternly, "Your brother could _never_ -"

"And Syaoran's brother returned – they should be…doing whatever brothers do. He hasn't even informed his parents yet! And his parents are coming! I have to meet his parents! And the women down by the docks!"

Tomoyo had been following along dutifully until this point, nodding her head and rubbing Sakura's shoulder in a manner she desperately hoped was soothing, but this last was… _unexpected_. "…what docks?"

"The ones where the women of questionable morals work!" Sakura rounded on her with wide eyes, "I heard Eriol promise Yamazaki that they would eat Syaoran alive. You have cannibals in your kingdom and they're going to eat Syaoran!"

"Sakura, that doesn't even make any sense. Why would his brother-"

"I don't know!" Sakura shrieked and pulled at her hair.

Tomoyo backed away very slowly, lest she upset Sakura any further. The poor girl's chest was already heaving and her eyes seemed well on their way to bursting out of their sockets. "Why don't you sit down for a moment," she instructed, "And I'll be right back with something to make you feel better."

Sakura nodded in defeat and flopped into an overstuffed armchair to await Tomoyo's return. She didn't have to wait long; Tomoyo returned after only a few minutes carrying an armload of red and deep mauve satins. Sakura frowned at this – this was supposed to make her feel better? "What are those for?" she croaked and straightened slightly in her chair.

"For your dress!" Tomoyo smiled broadly and pushed the fabric toward her.

Sakura had to laugh at this. "Red? My brother would kill me…"

"Well, he would if it were for a _wedding_ dress," Tomoyo agreed.

"If it were for a…" Sakura paused, her eyes tracing Tomoyo's face to find her meaning, "It isn't?"

"Sakura," Tomoyo took her hand gently, "You love Syaoran very much, right?"

"Yes."

"And you want to marry him someday."

"Uh huh."

"But not on Saturday."

Sakura paused, but shook her head in agreement.

"So don't," Tomoyo's voice was gentle but firm, "A wedding isn't something you should be unhappy over. You came here to get _permission_ – there's no need to dive right in straight away. Take your time, get the things in order with your brother and with Syaoran's brother that you need to, and then get married."

"But everyone here has already gone to so much trouble…"

"Nonsense," Tomoyo laughed, "My sister would have had them jumping this high and this fast even if you and your brother hadn't been celebrating with her."

Sakura was silent for a long moment. "You're right," she said at last, and smiled for the first time all evening, "I'll talk to Syaoran later, but you're right." Her face froze as an unpleasant thought crossed her mind, "Do you think he'll…be angry?"

Tomoyo bit at her lip, "I can't say for sure, though if he is you probably shouldn't marry him anyway…" She smiled then and helped Sakura to her feet, "You know, with a little luck, his brother and Yamazaki have scared him away from the idea entirely." Sakura didn't know if that option was any better, but held her tongue as she was led back over to Tomoyo's dressing station. "Now," Tomoyo continued, "If you can stand still a little longer, I should only need a few hours to design a new dress for you."

* * *

"Hol' still, you leafy 'sterd." It was really difficult to grasp how the damned bush kept… _moving_ like that, but then again, it was very difficult to grab anything at the moment when the world kept slipping up down and sideways every time he moved his head. All he was doing – all he _wanted_ to do – was water…watering…. _water_ the goddamned bush! It should be thankful, the little shit. It wasn't like anyone ever gave _him_ free drinks. Oh _no_. He had to pay – which was getting more difficult by the day because…because… _money_!

He really hated this bush. It had this annoying habit of sitting there, day after day, being all… _bushy_ and acting like it didn't have a care in the world. If the stairs back to his home weren't so damned uncooperative at this time of night, he wouldn't even bother using it as a toilet…much less a conversational partner. It really wasn't good at keeping up its end of things, and he gave it a good kick as he finished up. "Stupid bush."

The bush did not, however, take kindly to this kind of abuse, and brought its bastard, bushy fist whanging down on the back of his skull, sending his hooves flying out from under him. "Dumbass."

"You can talk!" he bellowed from the bed of grass he had fallen onto. "I knew it! You just don't…" he sobbed from the ground, "You just don't like me!"

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

He opened his eyes again, feeling that a conversation like this definitely deserved some eye contact. Now, if only he could make his eyes stay both still and open for long enough…

"Good gods you stink like whiskey. How much have you _had_?" The bush's hoof tapped at his head. (Wait…that wasn't right. Bushes had _roots_ , not _hooves_ – the bush's _root_ tapped at his head.) _"Hah?"_

"You oughta know, I pissed most a' it back on you…"

" _What?"_

That was most assuredly a hoof tapping at the back of his head, but he didn't quite know how the bush had gotten it. Come to think of it, he didn't know how the bush had gotten on that side of him…he was almost positive that it had been the other way… He finally managed to make his eyes hold still long enough to ascertain that _yes_ , the world was still spinning wildly out of control, but _no_ , that certainly wasn't a bush behind him. It was a faun…a big, black faun with messy hair and long curly horns and really, really, _really_ angry eyes. He snickered to himself, "Kurrrrro-tse, is that you?"

"Who else would it be, you idiot?"

"But you're all…" he bit down on his uncooperative tongue and tapped vaguely in the direction of his head, "Pointy. And fuzzy," he added, running his fingers through the thick black locks around the hooves. Oh gods that was luxurious; he splayed his fingers out and worked his palm into the action. "So silky…"

"Tche," Kuro-rinta seemed very put off by this, "So are you, damned troublesome faun. What the hell were you thinking? Disappearing like that without a word. Do you have any idea what I had to go through to find your ass?"

"Kuro-sama," Fay whined and curled into a ball, "'m very sleepy. C'n we talk 'bout it in the morning?"

"Who says I'll be here that long?"

"Why wouldn' you," Fay started, then fell silent. Oh yes. _That_. Right. That little thing that he'd spent the better part of the evening drinking away (and had been stunningly successful in doing so). That thing where he was a faun and Kurogane was a fairy and hated him. Except that Kurogane wasn't a fairy. Which…what the hell. This made less sense than the goddamned bush. "Okay," he said dumbly. There was a long, exaggerate exhalation from somewhere overhead, and then the world shifted once again as his body was lifted, folded, and somehow brought face to face with a black, hairy behind.

"You're a dumbass."

* * *

This bed was amazingly comfortable; the sheets were silk and the mattress stuffed with the softest down Syaoran had ever laid on. The summer curtains that hung from its posts were sheer and, he suspected, served no real purpose at the moment other than to filter the light streaming in from the window into pleasingly dreamy patterns that floated across the blankets (at least, this was why he had drawn them – he didn't expect any real degree of modesty when he was sharing a room with his brother, who was a likely as not to throw them aside without a second thought in his on-going quest to ensure the his brother began his day with both a warm breakfast and jolt of shame). All of this, however, was not helping him sleep.

He wasn't sure how long he had been lying here, but the moon had tracked a fairly sizeable path across his window and Eriol had moved into his second dream-speaking bout of the night (at least, Syaoran hoped it was his second – if the shouts of "a bit to the left" and "beware the sausage-slinging trebuchet" were somehow related, he really didn't want to know). He was exhausted after a long day of planning, taunting, teasing, and planning some more; his eyes burned and his limbs ached, but unconsciousness was something he had apparently not suffered enough to earn throughout his day of torment.

Torment may not have been the best description. Teasing, _yes_ ; goading, _yes_ ; gonad-shriveling, fear-induced performance anxiety, _definitely_ …but _torment_ was something he had been heaping on himself. The sudden announcement of his marriage had left him with at least two years less preparation time than he had originally assumed; this alone would have been bad enough, but their little adventure in the forest had left Sakura troubled and himself with his own troubling affinity toward her brother's fiancé's glorious posterior. Neither of these were problems he felt equal to conquering, at the moment. He and Sakura had never had so much as a mild tiff before this began; how was he supposed to know how to deal with this? And attraction to another… _well_ , how was he supposed to forgive himself or even excuse that?

He dragged himself out from the comfort of the bed and stole quietly into the hallway. Perhaps he would get lucky and a kitchen servant might still be awake at whatever hour this was to help him to an herbal remedy, splash of warm milk, or even just a large glass of wine. He could hope, at least.

He crept carefully down the darkened hallway, toward the servants' staircase that would lead him directly down into the kitchens, and pressed his ear against the door before opening it. There was chatter coming from the other side, which he interpreted as a good sign, and headed down to greet its makers.

He hadn't expected to find Sakura seated at the small table the cooks used for kneading dough, swinging her scandalously bare ankles from beneath her scandalously loose nightgown in full view of the chittering head maid.

He considered, briefly, rushing back up the rickety staircase, or diving headlong back into broom closet below (which probably had a latch inside that he could grip to refuse entry to anyone and thereby retain his dignity…at least until they knocked the hinges loose), but in the end decided to stand there, frozen in place and gaping, as Sakura scuttled her knees up under her skirts and squealed at the intrusion. "I'm…I'm sorry," he finally managed, once his brain had regained mastery of his tongue, "I didn't think…didn't think anyone would be here…" He ruffled a hand through his hair nervously and eyed the staircase again. "I'll, uh, head back to be-"

"Now, now," the maid smiled – surprisingly kindly, for the faux pas he had just made – at him, "You couldn't have known better. Why don't you pull up a stool and let Granny find you something warm to drink. I think the two of you have many things to discuss before sleeping."

"Huh?" Syaoran replied dumbly. What did she mean by that? Something warm to drink sounded nice, though, and he allowed himself to be shuffled over to the same table and sat down to wait as the old woman clattered about the cupboards and set a kettle to boil. They sat in awkward silence for a long moment, swinging their feet and ignoring each one another to the best of their abilities.

The maid returned to the table in short order and left Syaoran with a steaming mug of mulled wine and sharp thwack to the head. "Get it all out now, dearies. I'm off to bed."

Syaoran watched as she waddled toward the door, her skirts sweeping up the forgotten bits of dinner as she moved, and wondered just what he was meant to say now. After a few false starts and raised eyelids from Sakura, he finally managed, "This is all wrong, isn't it?"

He'd expected, with the way she'd been acting for the past few days, tears, or shouting or outright accusing…he hadn't expected the laughter he was receiving now, hollow though it sounded to his ears. On closer inspection, she _was_ crying, just not the bitter tears of rejections. "I'm sorry, I don't know… Are you alright?"

"I'm _terrified_ ," she cut him off and gripped his hands, "It's alright, Syaoran. I feel the same way. I love you so much, but it's all wrong and I…" she trailed off and looked very eagerly at every point in the room that was not his eyes, "I don't want to get married – _right now_."

Syaoran swallowed thickly. That _stung_ , even though she had been careful to emphasize "right now." Still, even with the smarting of her confession, he felt like an enormous weight had been lifted from his shoulders. She was obviously feeling exactly as he had felt earlier – rushed, tormented, hell, she even said she was terrified…

"It's just," she coughed out a chuckle as he leaned forward to wipe away a tear, "I thought we would have a year or so to prepare. And with your brother showing up and all this mess in the woods… We've never even kissed…"

Syaoran sighed. He was more than averagely aware of that fact. Even now, just the thought of it made his stomach twist up in anxiety. If he couldn't even manage a kiss…

_No_. He'd steeled up his resolve to even talk to her tonight; he couldn't continue to be a coward like this and still expect her to marry him – even years down the road. Now was his chance to prove once and for all that he was a man and that he wasn't cowed by the sight of her ankles! With a shaky breath, he leaned forward and puckered his lips.

"What are you…?" Sakura stared at him, "You want to…?" She blinked rapidly as he closed in, as if the rest of her body had forgotten how to move. He sucked in a quick breath through his nose, shaking this away, and dived in for the kill.

It was quick – nothing more than a rapid mashing of tightly puckered lips with an obnoxious popping noise toward the end. But it was, and that was what was important. For the second time that night, a huge weight seemed to leave his shoulders and Syaoran grinned like a madman. Sakura was gently rubbing at her lips, her eyes still fixed on him in shock. She seemed pleased though, and that could only be a good th-

She was on him so fast that he didn't even have time to be properly surprised by it. Unfortunately, that also meant that he had no time to readjust his balance, and the both of them went toppling from his stool and fell beneath the table, lips locked and tongues thrashing the entire while. He didn't even mind when his head collided with the table post – this was everything he had dreamed it would be and more. It was still awkward as hell, sure, and their teeth clacked together with far more frequency that he had really liked, but the hands in his hair and the lust in his belly and the brand new, very real _intimacy_ of it all was…was…

"I love you," he mouthed against her lips and loosened the tie in her hair.

"And I love you," she smiled. God, she was beautiful when she blushed like that. He was grateful the old woman had left them alone, now, as they ( _finally_ ) explored each other in the relative privacy the drooping table-cloth afforded them. Sakura tasted of mulled wine and _home_ , and Syaoran had never been happier.

At least until the cooks found them there the following morning, but then, even the celebratory pancakes were delicious.


	11. Chapter 11

__

If then true lovers have been ever cross'd,  
It stands as an edict in destiny:  
Then let us teach our trial patience,  
Because it is a customary cross,  
As due to love as thoughts and dreams and sighs,  
Wishes and tears, poor fancy's followers.

__

~A Midsummer Night's Dream, I:i

__

* * *

He was drowning. It wasn’t a nice, sensible drowning either – _oh no_ – there were squirrels everywhere that water ought to have been (and several places that water ought _not_ to go) and they all had _teeth_. He wasn’t even sure they actually _were_ squirrels, to be fair, but he was less sure how one went about drowning in squirrels to begin with. Not that it mattered, for that was exactly what was happening and it was all he could do to throw his arms and legs and back into escaping, into dragging himself back to the air. Finally, he breached the surface and tossed his head back to gulp down a victorious breath-

His eyes popped open as his head smacked into the wall with a loud _crack_. _Not_ drowning, then. At least not in squirrels…though they might have been easier to disentangle himself from than the mess of blankets that was now wrapped around and between his legs, neck, and torso. And the squirrels probably would have had less beady, disturbing little eyes than the centaur staring back at him-

 _“GAHH!”_ Watanuki screamed, kicking his feet into the mattress and shuffling as far back toward the wall and _away_ from Doumeki – who had somehow (quite miraculously, in fact, considering his _two broken legs_ ) managed to maneuver himself to the edge of the bed during the night – as he could. _“How the hell did you even get over here, you ginormous brute?”_ He clutched at the blankets, pulling them close to his chest as he heaved for breath.

Doumeki shrugged. “Back two still work fine-”

“What, so you pedaled?” Watanuki demanded, “Are you insane? That poor girl – sprite – _girl_ carried you all the way back here and bandaged you all up and _this_ is how you repay her? You better not have busted anything up again, or so help me I’ll break your back legs too-”

“Your concern is touching,” Doumeki assured him, crossing his arms across his chest, “But it seemed like a good idea, since you were flailing and kicking so hard in your sleep that I thought you were going to put a hole through the wall.”

“You don’t need to worry about me.”

“I wasn’t,” Doumeki nodded toward a dent Watanuki had failed to notice on the wall behind him, “I was worried about the wall.”

“Oh shut up,” Watanuki mumbled and rubbed at his forehead. It really stung where he’d smashed it earlier…

“Here,” Doumeki said and unceremoniously slapped what appeared to be a slab of raw meat across Watanuki’s forehead.

 _“What the-?”_ Watanuki sputtered and moved to wrench the foul thing away. 

Doumeki was faster, however, and slapped his hand over the bulk of it before Watanuki could to pull it too far. “Leave it,” he insisted and pressed it more firmly against Watanuki’s head, “It’ll keep down the swelling.”

“Why do you even have this?” Watanuki grumbled, swatting Doumeki’s hand away to replace it with his own. He leaned back against the wall and debated whether he actually wanted an answer to that question. 

“The old lady brought it earlier. This, too,” Doumeki said simply. He turned his attention to the bedside table, where a tray with a loaf of bread and a steaming pitcher with two cups had been left out, and set about filling both cups to the brim. Satisfied, he thrust one at Watanuki. “Drink.”

“What are you, my nursemaid?” Watanuki groaned, but accepted the cup all the same. Its contents were bitter and burned all the way down; he had to stop himself from coughing it back in the centaur’s face. “What _is_ this?” he sputtered.

“Medicine, probably,” Doumeki said and shoved a torn off piece of the bread toward him, “Eat.”

“Oh for-” Watanuki scoffed, “I can take care of myself, you know. I’m not the one with two broken legs. I ought to be the one-” his voice broke off as a deep flush of shame flooded his cheeks. _That bastard._ He hung his head. “I’m… _sorry_ ,” he mumbled, almost inaudibly.

“What?” Doumeki broke off mid-mouthful.

 _“I’M SORRY!”_ Watanuki shouted, then quickly recoiled. “I’m sorry, alright?”

Doumeki swallowed noisily. “For what?”

“For…” Watanuki seethed. _Was he going to make this difficult too? FINE._ “For not helping more with your…brokenness.” He waved an arm in the general direction of Doumeki’s bandaged front legs.

“Oh,” Doumeki bit off another mouthful and seemed to consider this. After a moment passed in silence, he continued, “I thought it was because you chucked this,” he produced a familiar book from the floor, “At my head last night.”

Watanuki grimaced. The front cover of his journal taunted him like the older brother from its pages, and he quickly snatched the book away. “You didn’t read this, did you?” he demanded. He could feel every hair on his neck standing in embarrassment-

“No.”

“Well, I hope it was to your liking, you big-” he stopped short as his brain caught up with his ears, “Oh.” He drummed his fingers against the cover. “Well, ah-”

“Look, Watanuki-”

“Just call me ‘Oi.’” Watanuki sighed and flipped the pages open, staring them down and pointedly ignoring the horrified look Doumeki was casting his way. It was all the same, anyway. “Watanuki” was just some name he’d conjured up for himself while traveling, looking for this brother of his. Or so the book said. It was odd (well, more like _infuriating_ , but he didn’t have the energy to muster _that_ properly) – for all that this should have constituted “getting his memory back,” it felt more like having a fictional life thrust upon him and being expected to act a role… This other him – this _Kimihiro_ – didn’t seem familiar in the least (alright, maybe a _little_ bit, but he was almost positive that he was not _that_ much of a spazz and he certainly _never_ would have kept up a tally of how long he’d been without a girlfriend…), and while some of the stories printed on the pages here felt _viscerally_ true, they weren’t sparking any sort of memories or producing any of the gut-wrenching emotions he’d always expected would accompany having his past return to him. Was this it? More worryingly, now that he had this…what was he supposed to do with it? Was he expected to go off and continue hunting down this brother? Or maybe return “home” to this family that he had no recollection of?

Both options were equally terrifying.

 _“Oi,”_ Doumeki began again.

Well, at least _that_ was still annoying. Possibly more so that Doumeki had agreed to it so quickly. “Nevermind,” he snapped, “Watanuki is fine.” It was at least _familiar_ and that was comforting at the moment. “What do you want?”

“Nothing,” Doumeki sighed and broke off another piece of the bread, “Just wondering if you were going to be alright. The old lady said-”

“Hahaha,” Watanuki laughed bitterly and swallowed down more of the horrible tea, “That I’m not who I say I am? That apparently I’ve forgotten an entire life and family? That not even magic is going to bring my memories back and all I’m going to be left with is this tattered old book and well-wishes?”

“Uh-”

“Because it’s all true,” Watanuki snatched a bit of the bread away from Doumeki, “My head is completely messed up and you’re along for the ride.”

“Right…” Doumeki stared at him with concern, “That’s not new information, though.”

_“Hey-”_

“The old woman was saying,” Doumeki continued talking over the top of Watanuki’s complaints, though he didn’t bother to raise his voice, “That the book held your memories. Or something. That’s what you’ve been working for all this time, right?”

“Yeah…” Watanuki stared pointedly at the far wall.

“Seemed private,” Doumeki continued, munching noisily on the bread, “So I left it alone.”

Watanuki stared, dumbfounded, for a long moment. “Thank you,” he mumbled at long last.

“You gonna be alright?”

“Eventually,” Watanuki sighed, “I don’t really know what to do with it, to be honest.” He laughed bitterly, “I don’t actually _remember_ anything that’s in here. I suppose I should go home now and find my family, but-” He shut up abruptly – he was being far too candid, with no good reason. Damn this irritating, useless wanderer…

Doumeki raised an eyebrow, clearly waiting for him to continue, then sighed when Watanuki’s mouth drew into a tight line. “Sounds like reasonable fear.”

_“What?”_

“They’re not really _memories_ ,” Doumeki continued slowly, “So much as they are an account. They’re yours, and not yours at the same time. Same with your family – if you go track them down, they’ll still be strangers as far as you’re concerned. For a while, anyway.”

Well, that was certainly more insightful than anything Watanuki had ever expected the blasted centaur to come out with. Apparently being maddeningly stoic wasn’t his only talent. He bit his lip – what was he supposed to _say_ to that?

Doumeki shifted uncomfortably, a frown pulling at his lips. “Of course, if you don’t go, all of your work to get your memories back will be for nothing and-”

“Alright, you don’t have to say _that_ much,” Watanuki grumbled.

“You won’t ever know where it is you _want_ to be,” Doumeki finished.

What the hell was _that_ supposed to mean? _Where he wanted to be?_ He didn’t have the time or patience for riddles at the moment – he needed to figure out exactly what the hell he was supposed to be doing with himself. He _wanted_ to be far away from here – far away from this decision – but how the hell was he supposed to know where that _was_ when he didn’t _remember_ anything?

…Which was probably the point, he realized with a grimace. If that was all gone, there was nothing to do but continue on and figure it out…

 _Damn that Doumeki and his insight. Why was the bastard so intent on talking now, of all times?_

“We should figure out how to get back,” Watanuki mumbled, desperate for a change of subject.

“Mmm,” Doumeki nodded. Watanuki breathed a sigh of relief as the topic as laid (at least momentarily) to rest. “Old lady says there are a couple of options. We can send out a messenger to the Queen and ask for help getting back. Alternatively, you can go back on your own and I can stay here and marry her granddaughter.” 

Watanuki rolled his eyes, “Yes, and what a useless, rotten housewife you’ll make with your broken legs.”

Doumeki shrugged, “I like bonbons.”

Watanuki scowled and wrenched the slab of meat away from his forehead, fully intending to slap Doumeki across the face with it. He would have succeeded too, if Doumeki had not been deceptively agile (even in his current broken state) and caught him mid-stroke. The meat slapped back against his forehead with a juicy _thwack._ Resigned, he clapped his hand back against it to hold it in place and sighed. “I’m not going to leave you behind.”

“No?” Doumeki seemed genuinely surprised by this, which only served to irritate Watanuki all the more. _Of course he wasn’t going to- What kind of asshole-_ Oh. _Right._

He wondered if he had always been this way. From what was written in the journal, he could gather that he’d always had a temper and could hold a massive grudge (or maybe this Eriol had simply _really_ deserved his wrath), but he’d taken off to find the source of all his apparent irritation, hadn’t he? So maybe he wasn’t entirely an asshole… Did it even matter, at this point? If he couldn’t remember, was he even the same person-

“Your eyes are crossing,” Doumeki droned.

“They are _not_ ,” he snarled, almost completely on autopilot. He shot Doumeki a withering glare, every muscle in his body stiffening at the mere thought of what he was about to do. “Why the hell would I leave you behind?” he finally spat.

“Do you want the unabridged version, or just bullet points?”

“Oh SHUT UP!” Watanuki sqwaked. No one was _that_ heartless! And especially not him! How _dare_ this Doumeki even _suggest_ as much? “There’s one way to fix you so that you…you…” He gave up on speech and pressed his lips into something loosely resembling a pucker.

Doumeki looked vaguely horrified.

Watanuki ignored this, pinched his eyes closed, and leaned forward.

He wasn’t even sure he was aiming in the right direction until his lips brushed against (what he assumed were) Doumeki’s. He debated, for a second, opening his eyes just to double check, but quickly fought down the temptation when a surprised gasp informed him that he’d hit the mark. He froze, lips mashed against Doumeki’s, unmoving and completely unable to process what the hell he was meant to do next. He parted his lips with a quiet _smack_ and backed away. “Did it,” he cracked an eye open, “Did it work?”

“Um, no,” Doumeki mumbled, though the bright pink hindquarters bleeding into his line of vision were more than enough confirmation of this. Watanuki growled low in his throat.

 _It won’t work unless you mean it, Watanuki._ Yuuko’s teasing flitted through his mind.

 _Goddamn it, he_ did _mean it._ There was nothing, at the moment, that would make him happier than to see this great broken lug of a horse transformed into something vaguely resembling a functional human. It wasn’t even just this overbearing guilt (though quite a lot of it _was_ ), or the fact that he couldn’t stand to see people in pain. For as much as Doumeki had driven him mad for the past weeks, he didn’t particularly wish him harm. Anymore. He wished him _well_ , in fact, and _that much_ he was certain he meant (even if it didn’t include all of the warm fuzzy feelings Yuuko had so often suggested that it should). And just to prove how much he meant it, he parted his lips – _slightly_ – in an effort to mimic some of the more _meaningful_ kisses that he was sure as hell never going to admit to reading about in the vast collection of fairy smut that populated Yuuko’s library. 

Doumeki followed suit, and Watanuki felt the bottom drop out of his stomach. 

_Magic._ Had to be – though, when he opened his eyes to confirm this, there were none of the tell-tale pyrotechnics or other assorted light tricks he’d come to associate with fairy magic. _Why?_ Surely _this_ was tender enough to get his point across? Or maybe he needed to use his tongue? How the hell was that even supposed to work, anyway? _This is what came of seven thousand plus days of not having a girlfriend._ Or a boyfriend. _WHERE THE HELL HAD THAT COME FROM?_

 _Oh, to hell with it._ He darted his tongue out between his lips-

And only barely avoided inserting it into Doumeki’s left nostril as the centaur collapsed forward.

Watanuki balked. That…hadn’t gone quite as expected. He scrambled backward on the bed, anxiously avoiding the unconscious face slipping ever-closer to his lap. On the bright side, it appeared that _something_ was happening to the bright pink hindquarters splayed out on the floor. Something that appeared to be making them smaller and far less pink with every passing second…

Watanuki breathed a sigh of relief. Doumeki’s front legs, bandaged and broken, were quickly shrinking and disappearing before his eyes. _Good._ They could both go on with their lives, and there would be no more need for kisses.

_Probably._

On the not-so-bright side, it was now quite apparent no clothing was going to miraculously materialize to cover the obvious nakedness of the (rapidly transforming) man hanging off the bed. He clutched at the blanket tangled beneath him, wrenching and pulling it free of his legs. He succeeded mostly in tipping himself backwards and very nearly smashing his face into the wall a second time, but eventually freed enough of it to toss over Doumeki’s trunk. He edged slowly along the wall, scooting along the far side of the mattress toward the foot of the bed. 

No way in hell was he taking care of _that._

* * *

Fay groaned and locked in the inside of his elbow over his burning eyes. Morning had this nasty habit of coming far too early – especially these days – and he himself seemed to be developing a nasty habit of forgetting to close the curtains before bed. This went hand in hand with his nasty habits of forgetting to lock the door, forgetting to put out the stove, and generally forgetting to make it all the way up the back stairs most nights before he passed out. It must have been a particularly good night for him to have even made it this far…

 _Urgh._ Scratch that – a particularly good night wouldn’t have left muscle in his body feeling as if they had been stretched on a rack and left to dry for several days, and it _certainly_ wouldn’t have left his stomach screaming and twisting in his abdomen, or bile bubbling up into his throat-

He wrenched his legs out from beneath the blankets – stretched and dried or not, he was not having another one of _these_ episodes in the bedroom – and promptly panicked as they collided with something – _someone_ – big and hairy collapsed over the edge of his mattress.

_Oh sweet Satyr’s sin sticks, what had he done?_

He retreated back into the corner next to the headboard, pulling his knees up tight against his stomach (which was now quite angrily flip-flopping about and threatening to do horrible things to both him and his linens if it was not quickly appeased). _That damned bush gave the worst relationship advice…_ It had been literally centuries since he’d pulled a stunt like this. Probably there was etiquette, of some sort, for this kind of situation (and probably it did not include slipping out the back door and sticking a note to the poor thing’s forehead like his less-refined instincts were insisting), but damned if he could remember what it was. Pickled melon? Pancakes? Fireworks and a miniature garden fountain?

He slid down the side of the mattress, carefully avoiding the still-snoring slump of shoulders and hair. _Curly horns. Well, at least his taste was consistent._ He’d nearly made it to the foot of the bed when an unnecessarily rough grip circled his wrist.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Fay blinked at the (fully awake and faintly annoyed) red eyes staring back at him. He swallowed thickly, a _horribly_ jumbled memory from the night before tickling at the base of his brain. “K-Kurogane?”

“Tche.”

“I,” his tongue suddenly seemed to swell to the size of a small horse, “What. Why are you?”

“You’re an idiot, you know that?” Kurogane grumbled and released his grip. He dragged a hand through his bedraggled hair, wincing slightly as it brushed against the velvet clinging to his horns, and clambered to his feet. “Just stay here. I’ll…make breakfast or something.”

“But, Kurogane, I-”

“Don’t call me that,” Kurogane huffed and started for the door, “Just…stay here and try not to do anything stupid for the next half hour or so.”

Fay sunk back against the pillows as the door slammed. Kurogane was _here_ and Kurogane was a _faun._ Neither of these things made sense. (The tap dancing griffons inside his skull were not helping in any way to sort this out.) _And_ he’d been sleeping by the side of the bed, which made absolutely no sense at all, as Fay had gone to great lengths to leave the big brute’s things alone. His fastidiously made bed, still taking up far too much space in the opposite corner of the room was evidence enough of that. There was even a fine sheen of dust collecting on its surface and an intricate cobweb sweeping down from the headboard, both very much evidencing how little attention had been paid to it in the weeks since…

Okay, maybe it wasn’t such a mystery why he didn’t want to sleep there. Still…

He buried his face in the palms of his hands. Kurogane had obviously been banished once again. Fay could only guess at what he’d done this time around. Probably body-slammed whomever had his old job… _And after all the trouble he’d gone to, too._ He shook his head. Well, one thing was for certain, after everything that had transpired between them – Kurogane wouldn’t be hanging around here very long again. 

Fay stretched and hauled himself out of bed. Might as well make the most of his company while he had the opportunity, then.

* * *

 _It was a damned good thing,_ Doumeki decided as he trudged through the thick underbrush after his overly-excited companion, _that his front legs had been an entirely magical creation, and not homologous to any of his actual body parts._ He paused to stare at the basket (a care package sent along by the old woman, though it seemed to be mostly filled with raw eggs and not anything easily made for lunch) in his hands and waggle his ankle in a circle, just to be sure. _Everything was mercifully unbroken._

“Would you hurry up?” Watanuki seethed at him from a few feet ahead. He set his hands at his hips and clucked his tongue irritably. “I’m already going to be in enough trouble as it is. A whole day late… I can’t even imagine what she’s going to do to me…”

Doumeki frowned, but picked up the pace once again. He had hoped that this morning’s little debacle would have… _softened_ his desperately flailing companions demeanor, but that seemed to be an idle fancy. “She’s not going to do anything. She’ll probably be happy you finally managed to get the centaur out of her-” 

_“Don’t even bring that up!”_ Watanuki groaned and slapped a hand across his forehead, “And don’t go thinking there are going to be any sort of repeat performances! It’s a onetime deal!” He spun around to jab a finger directly at Doumeki’s face, “You should feel blessed, you know! Getting a kiss from the great and mighty Lord Watanuki! _HA!_ Most would grovel for the opportunity! You ought to be-”

Doumeki plugged an ear with his free hand and pushed past him. Idle fancy…or a lost cause. “Noisy.”

“Hey!” Watanuki spluttered, then set his jaw and scrambled to catch up. He slowed a few seconds later, however, and shielded his eyes to stare up into the canopy. “Haven’t we…” he trailed off, “No, that can’t be right…”

Doumeki paused to look over his shoulder. “Haven’t we what?”

“Nothing,” Watanuki spat and stomped forward again, “I could have sworn we’d passed through here already, but that’s obviously not the case. Come on,” he grumbled, “It can’t be that far off.”

Doumeki followed warily. Fully human or no, the forest’s tricks were still painfully fresh in his memory. Travelling with one of the Queen’s servants had eased his mind for the most part, but now that Watanuki mentioned it…

A loud _CLANG_ rang out somewhere above them. Doumeki watched in mild amusement as what appeared to be a large, metal gong crashed down through the canopy and embedded itself into the ground not two feet from where Watanuki stood. There was a tussling in the leaves overhead. He craned his neck back for a better view, but found only squirrels staring back.

* * *

Kurogane slammed a griddle onto the stovetop (which was still glowing brightly with fairy fire from some previous use, he noted with no small amount of distain – couldn’t the idiot manage _anything_?). He fumbled around the small counters, knocking over bottles and at least one drying rack of spice (alright, so Fay could manage a kitchen far better than _he_ ever could, even if the idiot was likely to burn it down in the end), as he tried desperately to collect the ingredients for a pancake of some sort. In truth, he didn’t have the faintest idea what he was doing – mostly he was mimicking what he’d seen Fay do a million times over. Eggs, flour, milk. Well, there didn’t seem to be any milk, but he was sure orange juice would do just as well. Sugar. Salt. _How much salt? Did it matter?_ He dumped in half the pot. Died berries… _why not?_ Nutmeg. _Splash._ Cinamon? _Splash._ That…looked about right. Apart from the very obvious lumps of the nutmeg and cinnamon stick which…well, those should dissolve with some stirring.

He stirred.

The lumps failed to disappear.

He stirred vigorously.

The lumps-

 _Enough of this._ He snatched the nutmeg and cinnamon out of the bowl and deposited them on the counter. He knew there was a mallet around here somewhere-

“You’re going to break the counter if you do that.”

Kurogane spun back around to face the doorway. “I thought I told you to stay in bed,” he grumbled at the ragged looking faun leaning against the frame.

“I thought I’d better make sure you didn’t demolish my kitchen while you were…what _are_ you doing in here?” Fay swiped at the last remains of grime hanging around his eyes and staggered into the room. “Waging war?”

 _“Making breakfast,”_ Kurogane ground out, mallet now safely in hand. He raised it over the blasted nutmeg-

“It’s no wonder she banished you back here, if this is how you think breakfast is made,” Fay yawned and stumbled forward to pluck the mallet from Kurogane’s grip. “Some things require delicacy, Kurogane.”

“I told you to knock it off with that,” Kurogane roared, “And who said anything about being banished? I’ve spent _over a week_ looking for you, you complete and utter dimwit. I had to go all the way back to Her Highness for information and then I find out that you’ve come _right back here_ – like a goddamned idiot. And you’re back in the hooves, even after all the trouble we went to-”

“You went _looking_ for me?” Fay half laughed, half choked, “Kurogane, I didn’t know you _cared_ -”

“Oh shut up-”

“And speaking of being ‘back in the hooves,’” Fay continued, shuffling Kurogane away from the stove and being generally dismissive, “If you _weren’t_ banished again-”

“I just _told you_ I wasn’t-”

“Then how did you score that fancy little pair? They’re quite shiny – doesn’t even look like you’ve had them for a whole day.”

 _”It was the goddamned price I had to pay to find you,”_ Kurogane bellowed, finally at his wits' end. He slammed his fist against the counter. _Why was this idiot being so flippant about everything? This wasn’t some kind of joke-_

“Why?”

Kurogane blinked and flexed his banged up fingers. “Why what?”

“Why would you do that?” Fay was staring at the ground, the mallet he’d swiped from Kurogane only moments before tottering now in danger of slipping from his fingers. He looked like an idiot. Which was normal, but he wibbling lower lip was definitely not. Kurogane scoffed and narrowed his eyes.

“Because I-” he coughed. He didn’t know _why_ he coughed, only that his throat was suddenly very dry and getting more parched with each passing second. He swallowed heavily and ran his tongue over his teeth, which were also startlingly dry. _Dammit._ “Because I miss-” No, that sounded wrong. “Because I don’t like being alo-” No, that was worse. “Because you’re a dumbass,” he finally settled on.

_Ah yes, that was the one._

Fay stared back at him for a long moment. It took another for Kurogane to realize that the small shake in his shoulders was laughter. _Tche._ Let him laugh all he wanted…

“Kurogane,” Fay finally said, straightening himself out, “You can’t-”

“I _can_.”

“But-”

“Shut up.”

“Would you just _listen_ to me?” Fay snapped, “You can’t stay here like this. You worked too hard to reverse this already. And it was my fault to begin with-”

“No, _you_ listen to _me_ ,” Kurogane growled, “Two days of chasing brats around the woods has nothing on the amount of effort I put into find your drunken hide. If I didn’t want to be here, I wouldn’t be here. So cut the crap. What do I have to do to convince you, cut a goddamned arm off?”

Fay blinked and took a step backward. “I don’t know,” he mumbled, “You’re not going to try to serve it to me for breakfast, are you?”

“Oh for-” Kurogane cursed under his breath. He wasn’t sure why he was bothering to hide it at this point, but it seemed to him that cursing aloud would taint his next move-

Which was to grip Fay firmly by the horns and pull him close enough to smash their lips together.

He pulled away after a few moments of fumbling and not really having any idea in hell what he was doing. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, “I should have-”

It was probably for the best that Fay grabbed him again, just then, as he didn’t actually remember how he wanted to end that sentence, anyway.

* * *

“What the hell is wrong with you? Do you have _any idea_ just how expensive that gong is?”

“Now, now. If you don’t have the stamina to carry it, you shouldn’t be lugging it around with you all day! It’s a sure way for you to put your back out again – and you _know_ how she is about worker’s comp claims…”

“Just stay away from me, you irritating-”

“Takeshi!”

“Sniveling-”

“After I made you lunch and everything!”

“Pathetic excuse for a wif- _There he is!_ Watanuki!”

Watanuki stared at the bickering, beetle-winged fairies with no small amount of disgust. This wasn’t the first time the duo had managed to completely mangle their duties, though it was the first time he’d nearly been killed in the line thereof. He’d never understood _why_ Yuuko had been so insistent on leaving them to guard the front entrance. Something about an accident with one of the Mokonas…he couldn’t really imagine her feeling guilty enough about that to allow them to continue on in their old positions just because of that, though. No, this was probably (like all things) some form of sick entertainment for Her Majesty. And seeing how they’d now abandoned their post altogether-

“Her Highness has left a message for you,” the blue-winged one – Takeshi – continued, straightening himself as best he could with his, er _co-worker_ draped around his neck, “If you please.”

“A message?” Watanuki balked, “I’m heading back to her now – or does she have some _other_ errand she wants done?” Sheesh – he’d been expecting (hoping for, at any rate) a little bit more _concern_ from his employer after she’d dropped this latest load of bricks onto him. It wasn’t enough for him to be completely torn by this…this… _journal_ – oh _no_ , she probably wanted some very specific variety of chrysanthemum that only grew at the bottom of a well, tucked back inside some enchanted glade on the other side of the mountain, whose seeds had been buried in Griffon dung for exactly 16 years and allowed to germinate under the care of a particularly large gremlin, _all so she could have some wine_ -

“She says that won’t be necessary,” Takeshi said.

“I-” Watanuki started, “Wait, what?” He clearly hadn’t heard correctly.

“Yes,” Takeshi continued, shaking the red-winged fairy around his neck violently, “Damn it, Kentaro – _will you get off so I can get at the scroll?_ ” Kentaro sheepishly released his death-grip, and Takeshi took advantage of his newfound freedom to summon an overly ornate scroll that could only belong to Yuuko herself. He cleared his throat, “Ahem. My dearest Watanuki. Smile kindly.” Takeshi’s face pulled back into a sneer. “Did she leave me _stage directions?_ What kind of…oh never mind.” His forced smile was worse than the sneer, Watanuki thought. “I have received word that you have met with my dear friend the forest spirit and received your memories. I have also heard that you manged to eyebrow waggle and suggestive kissy-faces.” The sneer reappeared, “What did you _do?_ ”

Watanuki scowled back at him. “Just get on with it, will you?”

“Of course,” Takeshi grumbled and muttered something under his breath about “not getting paid enough for this, anyway.” “I always knew that you had it in you, you sly dog you.” Takeshi shuddered. “Now that your memories have been returned to you,” he held a hand up, looking confused, “Our contract has ended and you must return to your family. I apologize, I had hoped that your memories would physically return to you before this time, but-”

“But that’s not-”

“There’s no sense in arguing,” Takeshi continued, looking faintly amused – as if the letter had instructed him exactly what to expect there, “You were aware from the beginning of our acquaintance that once your debt had been paid and your memories restored that we would part ways.”

“But how can you-”

“I am pained as well, Watanuki,” Takeshi sighed and fanned his face resignedly, “Look at me, I’m all choked up. Please don’t take this personally-”

“But it is-”

“Actually, _do_ take it a _bit_ personally. I know how prone you are to hunkering down and clinging pathetically to familiarity. So I am making this decision for you.”

Watanuki sank to his knees. She couldn’t _mean_ this, she just couldn’t… 

“Fret not, for you are in good company,” Takeshi continued, nodding toward Doumeki, whom Watanuki had conveniently forgotten existed until this very moment, “As you may recall, before he was waylaid, Doumeki was on his way to the human’s palace to bless the marriage of their queen. He’s been called a long way to preside over this wedding – legend has it that a marriage blessed by priests of his family line will last a lifetime. I can’t say if that’s actually true or not, but I’m sure that should you guide him through the forest, the palace staff will be obliged enough to assist you in locating your family. If, of course, that’s what you should choose. Also assuming you haven’t brow-beaten him to death. I did tell you to be nice.”

Watanuki stared suspiciously at Doumeki. “You have got to be kidding me… Is that true?”

Doumeki frowned and took a step backward. “Is what true?”

“What do you mean- _Aren’t you paying attention?_ ”

“Attention to what?”

“Ahem,” Takeshi coughed, “Be gentler, Watanuki, or you’ll never get beyond that first taste of…oh she’s got to be kidding me.” 

Watanuki looked up just in time to catch the tail end of what he supposed was meant to be a lascivious swivel of Takeshi’s hips and immediately forced his eyes back toward Doumeki. “Don’t be an idiot, idiot. Are your… _services_ really that special?”

“Services?” Doumeki’s face twisted into a bizarre mixture of confusion and disgust, “What _are_ you talking about? You’ve been arguing with yourself for the past five minutes.”

Watanuki stared in disbelief.

Takeshi snapped his fingers. “By now you’ll have realized that Doumeki – being fully human once again – is not able to see or hear my messengers. And thank god for that,” Takeshi added beneath his breath, “You, too, are not able to see all that you once were.”

Watanuki’s eyes darted around him. He _knew_ this place had looked familiar – he was kneeling no more than thirty feet from where the gates of Yuuko’s palace _ought_ to have been, yet they were nowhere in sight. He wrenched his head back around to stare at the guard, who grinned wickedly back at him before continuing.

“Not to worry, my dearest Watanuki. Your ability to interact with the fairy world is something no one can ever take away from you. My home, however, is something that is only accessible to a very select few, and as it is no longer necessary for you to dwell here, I am closing it off for both your benefit and my own protection.”

“Protection?”

“Humans are strange beings Watanuki – perhaps the strangest of all creatures. But, as you are one of them – and strange in no small number of ways yourself – I know that your future happiness lies down this path. I shall miss you dearly.” With that, Takeshi rolled up the scroll and nodded to Watanuki. “I suppose that’s that, then.”

“You’re so cruel, Takepon,” Kentaro, who had remained mercifully silent throughout most of the ordeal, groaned, “Look at him – he’s a mess! We really ought to do something…”

Watanuki swiped at his eyes, which were now overflowing with unrepentant tears. He felt sick – how could she just throw him away like this? He’d been happy working as her servant, and she’d never expressed any displeasure with his service. Maybe the occasional teasing, but all of that was _fine_ , so long as she didn’t just toss him out on his own. Not even on his own – leaving him alone with Doumeki…this was just cruel and unusual punishment. What the hell was he supposed to do with Doumeki of all people?

“We should go,” Takeshi said quietly above him. He shirked off Kentaro’s concern uneasily and turned his back. “Her Highness specified that we’re not to interfere any further.”

“But-”

“Come on,” Takeshi sighed and pulled his despairing companion higher into the tree tops. 

Now Watanuki was truly alone. With Doumeki. Who was staring at him with all the concern generally reserved for someone in the middle of a fantastic break with reality.

Which might not have been far from the truth, but it didn’t mean he had to _accept_ it.

“What?” he snapped, tossing an angry glare back at Doumeki, “Something wrong?”

Doumeki blinked and sighed as if _he_ were the one really being put up on here. “Would you prefer the unabridged version, or just bullet points?”

“Oh, you think this is funny-”

“Not really,” Doumeki sighed and pulled the handkerchief covering the picnic basket free. He held it out to Watanuki, who steadfastly refused to accept it (he didn’t _need_ any sympathy, dammit). “Would you just-” he broke off with a growl and pinched the rag forcibly against Watanuki’s nose, “ _Blow._ ”

“I’b not gun-” Watanuki tried and failed to shake his face free. _“FINE,”_ he roared with all the dignity befitting a man with his face buried in a snotrag and let loose with a loud, trumpeting blow that shook his knees against the grass. “Happy?”

“Not particularly,” Doumeki frowned. He seemed to forget all about the handkerchief a moment later as he dropped down to one knee to better stare, perplexed, into Watanuki’s face.

Oh _gods_ this was emabarassing.

“Get up,” Watanuki scolded. He swiped the last vestiges of tears from his eyes and scowled in Doumeki’s general vicinity (carefully avoiding looking directly _at_ him, because who even knew what sort of trouble _that_ would bring about). “I’m fine. I don’t need your…snotrags.”

Doumeki frowned again (or at least Watanuki assumed he did – there seemed to be a general down-ward turn visible from the corner of his eyes). “We’re not going back to the fairies,” he said after a long moment.

“ _You’re_ not going,” Watanuki snarled, “ _You’re_ going to the human palace. And you’d better hurry up – who knows how long she's left you to get out of the forest without trouble.”

“What about you?” Doumeki said. 

Watanuki chanced a glance toward him and recoiled – that was definitely the face of someone who knew more than they were letting on. _How much had he even said out loud?_ “I’m staying here,” he ground out.

“For what?” Doumeki demanded incredulously, “Don’t be an idiot. Whatever just happened, it’s obvious that-”

“Shut up,” Watanuki snapped, “You don’t have any clue, do you? You can’t see them.”

“I don’t _need_ to,” Doumeki snapped right back, “You’re rolling around in the dirt bawling your eyes out.”

 _“I am not rolling around!”_ Watanuki sniffled, “And I am certainly not bawling.” He ground a dirty fist across his tear-stained cheeks and snarled, “Hurry up and get the hell out here now. Before you piss me off any more.”

“Why don’t you come with me?”

“What?” Watanuki spluttered. _Had he overheard after all?_ “No. Look, I did you a favor and got you your legs back…or reduced or _whatever_. Now return the favor and leave me alone.”

Doumeki heaved a mighty sigh and dragged himself back to his feet. _Good,_ Watanuki thought miserably, _it’s much better this way_. In truth, he’d expected that to take a little more effort – usually it was impossible to convince the big lug to do _anything_. But he supposed even Doumeki had his limits. Besides which, he was free to go now that he wasn’t a hulking horse-beast anymore. 

Watanuki exhaled in relief and brushed some of the grime from his knees. This was much better. He could wait out Yuuko. Eventually she would grow tired of him lurking around her palace and darkening the areas he remembered doorways existing. He would wait. Even if it took _years_ -

_THWACK_

The first impact took him by surprise – so much so that he nearly toppled over and turned Doumeki’s accusations of rolling about in the mud into a reality. The second hit with no less force, but thankfully he had already turned his face away from its trajectory.

It wasn’t until the third impact that he realized there was something wet and slimy trailing down the contours of his face. He dragged his hand across his cheek, smearing the slime and dragging it out in a glistening trail that clung to his fingers as he examined them. _What the hell was this?_

This moment of confusion only served to give Doumeki time to refresh his stocks. Three more shiny white projectiles collided and shattered against his still gaping face before Watanuki had managed to voice something even partly resembling a complaint. _Eggs. That bastard was lobbing eggs at him!_

_Who the hell threw eggs? Honestly…_

The barrage of shell and yolk continued as Watanuki hauled himself to his feet. He clawed at the splattered yolks as they trailed over his cheekbones. _That was going to leave a mark._ That goddamned Doumeki – _how dare he look so smug?_ He was grinning – _grinning_ – as he continued to hurl the contents of the basket in Watanuki’s direction. Watanuki set his stance to lunge. Stupid, bloody ex-centaur was going to be mashed into a-

And without a word, Doumeki vanished from sight, tossing the last of his eggs to land with a _splat_ at Watanuki’s feet and darting off in between the gnarled tree trunks.

Watanuki stared at his back.

Oh _hell_ no.

He took off after him just quickly, all thoughts of Yuuko temporarily forgotten. The albumen smeared against the soles of his feet might have made the trek through the forest all the more treacherous, but there was no way he was letting Doumeki escaped unscathed.


	12. Chapter 12

_Sound, music! Come, my queen, take hands with me,_   
_And rock the ground whereon these sleepers be._   
_Now thou and I are new in amity,_   
_And will to-morrow midnight solemnly_   
_Dance in Duke Theseus' house triumphantly,_   
_And bless it to all fair prosperity:_   
_There shall the pairs of faithful lovers be_   
_Wedded, with Theseus, all in jollity._

_-William Shakespeare_   
_A Midsummer Night's Dream; IV, i_

* * *

Kurogane was, despite the several hundred years of age he'd accumulated, not what anyone might have considered "well practiced" in the ways of love. He'd taken account of this once or twice in his youth and had even made a concerted effort to _do_ something about it, but found the cold, impersonal press of the mirror back against his lips to be lacking in both feeling and charm. He'd abandoned any silly thoughts about love soon after and resolved to save any sort of lip pressing for foodstuffs and the occasional blown raspberry.

He had to admit though, if he had been just a little bit more discerning in his choice of practice partners, his formative years might have taken on a very different character indeed.

Or maybe this was all just his forebrain kicking in its stupid two cents when it ought to have been shutting the hell up and enjoying the ride his hindbrain was busy providing, or whatever this was. The differences between Fay's warm lips and groping hands and his own reflection so many years ago were stark enough on their own, but the crackling thrill of…whatever-that-was running up his spine caught him off guard.

As did the slimy warmth snaking its way into his mouth, for that matter. Kurogane wrenched his head back. "The fu- _Is that your tongue?_ "

Fay managed to peel himself away long enough to look confused. "Is this a trick question?"

"Uh," Kurogane considered, shifting against the stove and trying desperately not to wince at the knobs and kitchen thingamabobs catching his hairs and poking into his back, "No?"

"Aww, is Kuro-horny nervous?" Fay laughed. Truthfully, he looked more than a little nervous himself, but that didn't stop Kurogane spluttering half-intended curses in his face or swatting his hands away from his still-oversensitive horns.

Fay, of course, only laughed at this and strengthened his grip. "That's a funny way of saying-" he cut himself short and sniffed sharply at the air, "What is that?"

"What the hell are you-"

"Shh!" Fay insisted, wafting air toward his face, "Something's on fire!"

"Dammit!" Kurogane growled, "I _told_ you it's _breakfast_!"

"No, not that," Fay insisted, shuffling Kurogane away from the counter, "This smells like burning hai- Oh, dear – it's you!"

Kurogane danced nervously away from Fay's flailing hands, which were fanning dangerously close to his behind. He did have to admit that something smelled _off_ , but he would have to be an idiot to not realize he was actively on fi- "SWEET SATYR'S SIN STICK, MY _TAIL_!"

"Stop thrashing around so much, Kuro-flaming!"

"Don't call me that! Get a towel or something!"

"Just stand still!" Fay gripped his shoulders and shook him into stunned silence.

"Thank you," he proclaimed exaggeratedly and leaned back for a better view, "Now let's see…" He aimed an index finger at the flames and bit thoughtfully at his tongue.

"Would you just-"

"I said it's fine, Kuro-toast," Fay laughed. His wrist twisted and flicked in an intricate dance, and before Kurogane could muster the air to demand to know how in the hell _that_ was supposed to help, a staccato stream of blue flame burst from his index finger and flew directly toward Kurogane's smoldering posterior. "That's better," Fay grinned, sniffing at the air again, "Smells better, at least."

Kurogane stared back at him, dumbfounded by the zap off electricity to his butt. "How did you…?"

"Smells like magic." Fay's grin had grown to insufferable proportions.

"She gave you your magic back."

"Now, Kuro-smolder, calm down," Fay's hands waved frantically in front of his face, "I was going to tell you-"

Kurogane crossed his arms across his chest. "You had magic all this time and you let me burn breakfast."

Fay stopped flailing long enough to let this sink in. "Oh Kuro-gruff," he said after a long moment had passed, "That mess wasn't fit for eating. It's better this way, really-"

"Shut it," Kurogane warned and grabbed at Fay's wrists to pull him close once more. He moved to kiss him again (…probably… _hopefully_...he very well might have been doing more _looming_ than _smooching_ but it was all kind of the same once you got the lips smashing together ), but was disappointed when Fay gave him the slip. "The hell?" he grumbled. He had very much been looking forward to that tongues bit again-

"I should show you something," Fay said quite seriously.

Kurogane balked. "Please don't tell me you've picked up some other bit of animal anatomy-"

"Well, no," Fay assured him, "I mean-" He drummed his fingers against his chin as Kurogane waited expectantly. "I guess I could? If you're into that sort of thing."

"What?!"

"Maybe not then-"

_"Oi-"_

"I've been studying," Fay finally blurted out, "Trying out some new magic."

"Oh god, what did you burn down this time-"

"Nothing like that!" Fay played nervously with his fingers. "But, well… You don't want to stay in those hooves for long, do you?"

"They're stuck, and that's fine," Kurogane said flatly, hoping against hope that Fay was insinuating what it sounded like, "Unless you've suddenly mastered transfiguration."

"As a matter of fact, I have," Fay admitted, "Or at least I've been trying to. It's handy…when you don't want to look like yourself, and it seems one of the fairies Yuuko took in to fill my old position is particularly gifted-"

_"That horny kid?"_ Kurogane groaned, recalling a not-so-distant night in a tavern.

"That was an accident," Fay assured him, albeit unconvincingly, "Although I guess it did take a while to get sorted. Poor Kazahaya…" Fay shook the memory away and straightened himself. "That's all taken care of now, though. Glitches fixed, that kind of thing. I can have us out of these hooves and back into a pair of wings before the afternoon is over."

Kurogane stared in disbelief. He _wanted_ to say yes – wanted to scream it from the top of his voice – but an insidious niggling of doubt was preventing him. If he accepted – if he threw away this faun's body he'd taken as payment to the queen – would that undo everything he'd accomplished in the past 24 hours? Granted, it hadn't been much, but it was more than he'd accomplished on his own before that. It wasn't worth having wings if he had to-

Had to-

"It's fine," he decided at long last, "The hooves are fine. I already decided."

"Decided?" Fay balked, "Kuro-goat, it's not like you can't go back to them if you miss them so much."

"That's not the point, idiot."

"You're worried," Fay's eyes lit up as he suddenly realized, "That somehow the queen will find out and she'll turn you into a toad or something this time."

"No."

"She was the one who introduced me to Kazahaya in the first place, you know," Fay explained, "So I doubt she would mind. Much. Anyway, I don't really think she likes you all that much."

"What's that got to do with anything?"

"I doubt she's going to go out of her way to find out what you're up to these days, unless you go and burn down the forest. Again." Fay doged quickly out of the way as Kurogane hurled recriminations and possibly a skillet at him. "That wasn't nice," he chided once the barrage had come to an end, "I can see why she doesn't like you." Fay sucked in his bottom lip and contemplated for a moment. "Look," he said at last, "It would be an honor for me to restore you to your original form. I'll…I'll change too. I mean…otherwise there are going to be rumors about bestiality and-"

"Beastie-what?"

"Nothing!" Fay clapped his hands together, "Nothing you need to worry your pretty little horns about! So…shall I go first? Or did you want to?" He twiddled his thumbs and stared at the floor. "I thought I might, so you know you can trust me-"

"Do it however you want," Kurgone cut him off before he could start wibbling, "I trust you."

"Yeah?" Fay's face lit up at this, "Um, alright then!" His eyes darted around the small kitchen, nose wrinkling thoughtfully. "I need you to promise me one thing, though."

"What?"

"Just make sure that if I fall, I don't crack my head open on something."

"Hah?"

"Space is tight in here, and the hardest part about this is not passing out."

"Hey, wait," Kurogane grabbed his arm, "Maybe you should do this somewhere else-"

"It's fine," Fay assured him, "It'll be the same anywhere. Just don't let go." Blue magic was already eeking from his fingertips, rolling along the contours of his body and circling his face. The light cast by the magic threw horrible shadows that contorted the lines of his torso and left his face looking strangled and sallow. Hiss knees collapsed beneath him. Kurogane had no difficulty believing that staying conscious was the hardest part of this exercise and for the moment was thankful that he'd never had to witness himself in this state. There wasn't much to see of Fay in this state either, it appeared: the light cocooning his body intensified, shining brightly enough to force Kurogane's eyes closed in self-preservation. It was all he could do to hold his grip steady to ensure that Fay didn't fall any further than his knees or crack his head against the countertops as the heat of the reaction bloomed and burned against his skin.

When the light finally faded, Kurogane was left staring down a very naked fairy that he was certain he'd never seen before. At least, not like this. It had been some time since he'd seen Fay outside of a faun's body, but his memory wasn't so bad that the simple passing of years would have erased the memory of the spectacular wings emerging in front of him now. No, Fay's wings had been white – nearly transparent – and round-tipped with darker veins running through them. The pair slowly unfolding from his shoulders now were a royal blue veined with silver, their tips sculpted and tapered to a point. They were stunning.

"Am I beautiful?" Fay's voice sounded weakly from somewhere near the floor.

Kurogane coughed and turned his head, realizing too late that he'd been leering like a satyr in rut (which wasn't too far from the truth, but embarrassing none the less). "Still a ridiculous ass, just more naked now." He tossed a dishtowel in Fay's general direction, which landed near his knees and did exactly nothing to cover his shame.

"Wah, so mean."

"Blue suits you."

"Oh?" Fay fished about his knees for the dishtowel. "Kuro-horny likes them?"

"Tche."

"I'll take that as a yes." Fay steadied himself against Kurogane's arm as he struggled to his feet. "Man, that really takes it out of me," he whined, "Do you mind if I rest for a minute?"

"Take whatever time you need."

"It should give you a moment to give a last loving stroke to those horns-"

"STOP MOLESTING THE HORNS."

"Alright, let's be quick about the whole thing, then," Fay pouted. He grabbed Kurogane about the shoulders and shoved him toward the center of the room. "Sit down," he ordered.

"What? Why?" Kurogane eyed the dusty, food-crusted floorboards warily.

"Because you're going to pass out," Fay chirruped happily.

"Like hell I will," Kurogane snorted, but settled his butt in a relatively clear patch of floor. There was no way he was going to black out if Fay had managed to stay conscious for the entire transformation.

"Oh Kuro-tough," Fay laughed, "You _are_ a glutton for punishment."

"What?" Kurogane wondered out loud, but the blue magic had already encircled him, and his final thought before losing consciousness was a desperate hope that he'd remembered to close the curtains.

* * *

The best part about kissing Sakura, Syaoran decided, was that although she didn't taste like sugar or flowers or whatever-else people tended to write into poems, her lips had a mild sweetness all of their own. Sort of a…tang? as well. A meaty tang. Like a…sugared beefsteak. Or something. It probably wouldn't make for good poetry, but it was definitely enough to entice his return over and over and over-

"Syaoran?"

Syaoran, reverie interrupted and boyish single-minded fantasies shattered, momentarily redirected his attention to the face beyond Sakura's lips. "Hmm?"

"I meant to ask you…"

"Yeah?" It would be a lie to suggest that he was hoping for anything but another invitation to get squelchy beneath the nearest table to follow.

"Well, I was talking to your brother earlier-" Syaoran's heart – and probably face – fell precipitously. "-and he wanted to know what my wrist measurements were for some maneuver?"

"Oh, no-"

"I don't know what he was talking about, but I got the measurements for him and-"

"Don't worry about that," Syaoran forced out around the lump growing in his throat. It occurred to him that in his excitement over advancing his relationship to the next, erm... _physical_ level, he _may_ have forgotten to mention to Eriol that he would not, in fact, be taking his relationship to the next _sacramental_ level of marriage just yet. It also occurred to him that he should probably smash his perverted brother's face in for this, but that was something he'd probably never work up the courage to do.

"He also wanted to know if I was allergic to rabbit fur."

_Or maybe not._ "That's not something he ever needs to know," Syaoran soothed, relaxing into a cold, detached state. Perhaps beating Eriol within an inch of his life was nothing less than he deserved-

"But don't you think the handcuffs will chafe without it?"

"Buh- _What?_ "

Sakura slipped a hand under his shoulders before he crashed, sputtering into the ground once again. "I'm only teasing," she smiled. He relaxed again, though much more warmly this time. "Seriously, though. Your brother is a pervert."

"I know," Syaoran groaned, "I'm sorry."

"It'll be alright," Sakura soothed, tracing her fingertip down to the very point of his nose, "As long as you keep him away from our baby."

"Wait, _what?_ "

"Kidding, again," Sakura laughed, "Now maybe…just calm down and enjoy the afternoon, ok?" She raised an eyebrow toward him, seemingly expecting an argument. When none came, she grinned triumphantly and made quick work of putting his lips to other uses.

* * *

Yukito watched the happy couple sprawled in the lawn with an almost parental pride. It was the first time he'd seen them so calm, so at ease with each other. The blushing and gaping and poorly choreographed tap-dance routines they normally favored seemed to have faded away over night. Even if they were still sneaking kisses like naughty children hiding from their parents, he had to admit this was a huge step forward for them.

He doubted Touya would agree, however, and shifted his position on the tree branch he was busy clinging to just enough to keep the lord's view obscured. Not that it really mattered all that much. Touya, for all their spectacular vantage at this height, was too deeply engrossed in his own jubilation over not gaining a brother-in-law to actually make use of it. Yukito winced as his Lord and Fiancé slapped a palm over his eyes and collapsed backward onto a nearby bough. The entire tree shook with the impact and continued to waver as Touya rolled about, cackling with glee.

"Apparently," he managed between fits of laughter, "Apparently all she needed was bad sex under the kitchen table to convince her not to marry the brat!"

_"Touya!"_

"I mean, hell," Touya continued to bellow, "If I had known it was that easy, maybe I would have suggested it-"

"You would have killed them thrice over," Yukito snorted, "Besides which, you don't _know_ -"

" _Everyone_ knows-"

" _Either way,_ " Yukito said with finality and jostled himself down to rest in Touya's lap. He pinned his knees into either side of Touya's thighs and leaned heavily to the right to keep _that_ view obscured, "You would have been an awful curmudgeon about it, the same way you're being one now. And," he added with a furtive glance over his shoulder, "This is probably only a temporary victory for you, anyway." He grinned as Touya's face twisted into a pout. "That's not a good look for you."

Touya regarded him petulantly for a few seconds, then craned his neck as far as he could around Yukito's shoulders to get a better look at the ground and the disgustingly affectionate lovers huddled there. He collapsed back onto the bough with an irritable scoff and promptly changed the subject. "This feels backward."

"What does?"

"You pinning me to a tree," Touya grumped and shuffled his hips.

"I see," Yukito laughed, "You'd rather the tree was in charge then?" He dug a finger into Touya's side and almost immediately regretted it as the entire bough rocked and swayed in retaliation. He pressed him palm soothingly into the abused patch of skin and bit his lip. "You're letting this go awful quickly."

"Hmph," Touya looked quickly away, "What should I do? I already got my way, you're the one who has to go and ruin it by pointing out how cute they are."

"Actually, I think you put that together for yourself-"

"Oh, who cares," Touya waved a hand wildly, "I only wanted to enjoy the brat's massive failure of proper courtship etiquette." He attempted to pout again, but this melted away into renewed cackling which shook the branches all the more.

"You're going fall out," Yukito chided and kicked at the soles of Touya's boots, "Which would defeat the entire purpose of being up here in the first place."

Touya snorted at this, but gripped the bough with a second hand all the same. "Why _are_ we up here, anyway? Espionage and subterfuge aren't your normal-"

_"Lord Touya!"_ Lady Akizuki's voice rang loud and clear from somewhere across the garden. Touya shuddered and shrank back behind the foliage.

"Oh, right."

"Espionage and subterfuge, no," Yukito agreed, "But cowering in the name of my lord's continued sanity is something I will always stoop to, when called upon." He stuck his tongue out the corner of his mouth and dug his knees harder into Touya's legs as Touya started struggling again in earnest. At this rate, he was going to send them both tumbling out of the tree. Especially if he kept insisting on using his elbows as bludgeons like that. "To-ya!" he caught a wrist and pinned it to the tree, hoping this might calm the trashing, just a little bit anyway. "Actually, I wanted to ask you something."

Touya stopped fighting him just long enough to cock an eyebrow. "Hmm?"

"Your sister and Syaoran," he said, "It's such a small thing, but I was thinking that it would be nice to have them in the wedding party." He braced himself as Touya's face twisted into a grotesque caricature of itself. "We haven't seen much of them since we made it back and well…" he trailed off, wondering for a moment if he wasn't just being silly, "I thought it would feel more like a…like a family."

Touya stared at him for a long moment, lips twitching between "horrified" and "amused" postures. He finally settled on "amused" and wrestled his hand away long enough to cup Yukito's cheek. "You're really a sap, aren't you?"

"Proudly."

"Yeah, I suppose," Touya sighed, "Probably better that way, since they won't be able to crawl off to the kitchens early."

Yukito shot him a _look_.

"Or god forbid, go sneaking off under some poor statesman's table."

"You're terrible."

"Not to mention that it's always a good idea to keep your friends close and your enemies closer."

"Well, if that's the case, maybe we had better ask Lady Akizuki to join in as well." Yukito grinned and shook a far-splaying tree branch.

"You wouldn't dare."

"Oh, but she and that brother would make such a lovely pair traipsing down the aisle," Yukito smirked, "She could be the flower girl. But instead of flowers, she could scatter little slips of paper detailing all the ways that she'd like to-"

Touya clapped a hand over his mouth. " _I'm_ terrible?"

"The worst," Yukito mumbled against the skin of Touya's palm.

"A title I'll wear with pride," Touya sighed, "Just so long as the brat convinces his brother to call his damned attack servant off."

"You could go down there and ask him," Yukito offered helpfully.

"Or we could just stay up here."

"And continue to hide from her?"

"Don't be ridiculous, we're keeping an eye on my sister."

"Of course," Yukito snorted, and eased himself onto a more comfortable bough, "Because you haven't learned your lesson about that yet, apparently. Let's hope, then, that they're not as quick about things as last night." He folded his arms behind his head and closed his eyes to the sunshine battering his face, determined to enjoy every last moment of Touya's horrified silence.

* * *

The humans' castle was drab and over-engineered, at least to Watanuki's sensibilities (which in all fairness had been biased quite heavily by his months living amongst the natural architecture of the fairies). In comparison, these towering walls set at right angles seemed overly serious and blocky. Even the turrets – which might have introduced an element of whimsy to the whole design – stood sternly in place, staring down at the landscaping below like some sort of disapproving grandmother. It was as if someone had spent a huge sum of money on a design dreamed up by a toddler with a pile of blocks.

It dawned on him, somewhere between tipetoeing across the huge, creaking draw bridge, trying not to think of the carnivorous reptiles that were no doubt waiting to devour him below, and staring in awe at the small army of men needed to lift the bridge back into position once they'd crossed, that perhaps humans valued intimidation more than beauty in their architecture. If that was the case, then they were truly masters of their craft.

"State your business, men."

The men manning the gate, too, were impressively intimidating with their bulging muscles and pointed staffs. They'd already given their papers – well, _Doumeki's_ papers and a wild story about why he wasn't carrying any – to the guards outside the gate, but this didn't stop Watanuki from launching into a hysteria-driven recap, complete with excessive gesticulation and whimpering.

He was half-way through the long and bitter tale when Doumeki cut him off. "I'm here to officiate the royal wedding," he said simply.

Watanuki glared. It was if he didn't even _appreciate_ the effort he'd put into his own cover story.

"And who's this, then?" the guard nodded to Watanuki, "And what's he blathering on about having no papers for?"

"My assistant," Doumeki explained, "And he's had a rough day."

"Looks like it," the guard agreed, "Smells like he's covered in rotten eggs."

"That would be this unholy bastard's fault-" Watanuki blurted before his brain could catch up with his tongue. He cleared his throat and tried again. "There was an incident earlier and-"

"It's ectoplasm," Doumeki interrupted, "He interfered in an exorcism in the forest."

"What's ectoplasm?" the guard balked, poking the blunt end of his staff into the goo dripping from Watanuki's vest. "Spirit stuff?"

"You could call it that," Doumeki agreed.

"I could, could I?" the guard scoffed and backed away slowly, "Well, I'm not one to be meddling in supernatural hocus pocus. If you say rotten eggs are ectoplasm, I'll say that's that, priest. Anyway, your papers check out, so you and your altar boy here can-"

"I am not his altar boy!"

The guard raised an eyebrow in Watanuki's direction. "You and your angry spirit-spunk covered assistant here can go to the room laid out of you. Toad here will show you the way."

Watanuki swallowed down a throatful of anger and turned his attention to the man called "Toad." He was, surprisingly, neither fat, nor squat, nor even covered in warts, which left Watanuki wondering if humans were perhaps as strange a lot as the fairies had been. The though was…strangely comforting. In its way.

They meandered through the courtyard and into a poorly lit back stairway that brought them – surprisingly – to a grand hallway lined with doors and decorated with a class and eye for beauty Watanuki hadn't known humans possessed. He let out a low whistle of appreciation.

"I know, right?" Toad grinned back at him, "You must be one impressive priest for Her Highness to put you up with all the other fancy guests like this."

Doumeki shrugged. Watanuki snorted.

"Shame we didn't know you were travelling with an assistant, though," Toad pushed one of the tall, gilded doors open and ushered them through, pointedly ignoring their mostly-silent bickering, "You'll have to talk to one of the house staff about bringing up a cot and some extra bedding."

"It's fine," Watanuki waved the instruction away, plopping onto the overstuffed bed and running the palms of his hands against the velvet bed covering, "The big idiot can sleep on the floor."

"Um, sir?" Toad looked exceptionally confused.

"It's fine," Doumeki reassured him, "Just a side effect of the spirit spooge."

"I had no idea." Toad shook his head sadly.

"It's best you didn't," Doumeki shrugged, and walked Toad back toward the door, "He should be fine after a bath."

"If he's not, we can send up a regiment-"

"Won't be necessary." Doumeki attempted to shut the door behind the guard and end the farce once and for all, but was thwarted by a slender hand that wound its way between the door and frame and held it fast in place. After a moment of pushing, Doumeki relented and opened the door once again.

Watanuki sat upright on the bed, annoyed. "What is it this time?"

"I thought I heard a familiar whine," the man in the doorway greeted him.

The man was at once familiar and foreign: his face bore a striking similarity to Watanuki's, yet the countenance with which he stood and sneered spoke of a self-confidence bordering on arrogance that the travelling priest's "assistant" would have been able to muster in a thousand years. Watanuki tried desperately to place the man – to assign him a name, a family, a split-second's worth of memory – but it was all for naught. He received only a massive headache for his efforts.

"Well don't just stand there gawping, Kimi," the man chided, stepping through the doorway, "How many years has it been now?"

Watanuki's head throbbed with a fresh pang of annoyance and anger. He _knew_ in that instant that this must be his brother, Eriol.

He promptly passed out.


	13. Chapter 13

_If we shadows have offended,_   
_Think but this, and all is mended,_   
_That you have but slumber'd here_   
_While these visions did appear._   
_And this weak and idle theme,_   
_No more yielding but a dream,_   
_Gentles, do not reprehend:_   
_if you pardon, we will mend:_   
_And, as I am an honest Puck,_   
_If we have unearned luck_   
_Now to 'scape the serpent's tongue,_   
_We will make amends ere long;_   
_Else the Puck a liar call;_   
_So, good night unto you all._   
_Give me your hands, if we be friends,_   
_And Robin shall restore amends._

_-William Shakespeare_   
_A Midsummer Night's Dream, IV;ii_

* * *

Syaoran stared at the ghastly red and green robes reflected in the mirror and wondered whether accepting Touya's invitation to stand as their best man hadn't been a terrible mistake. He turned to the side, shifting the robes held beneath his chin in the vain hope that they might look better in profile, but to no avail. Red and green taffeta was red and green taffeta, no matter what angle he viewed it from. He dropped the robes to the floor and sighed. There was nothing for it – he was just going to have to suck it up and put them on and hope to the gods above that they looked better on than off.

Getting into them was, thankfully, a mostly uneventful affair, especially as his esteemed brother hadn't arrived to help him into them. The buttons and cords were well enough spaced that he didn't have to contort himself into unspeakable configurations to fasten them, and the arms and neck generally left him enough berth to prevent choking himself in the process. Unfortunately, for all of their accessibility, the robes did indeed look just as bad on as they had off. Possibly worse.

"You are _not_ getting married in that," an all-too-familiar voice sounded from the doorway.

"I'm not getting married at all," Syaoran answered his brother without bothering to turn and look him in the eyes, "Like I told you yesterday."

"What?" Eriol scoffed, "You didn't tell me any such thing! And here I went and had the perfect fur-lined cuffs-"

"That was unnecessary-"

"It's completely necessary!" Eriol's face appeared behind him in the mirror, pouting and dejected, "Oh well, you'll still find a use for them, even if you're not married, I suppose. As soon as you find another girl, anyway. Which might be hard in your current condition." Eriol clucked his tongue reproachfully. "Why _are_ you wearing those, anyway? What's wrong with the family colors?"

"They're my best man robes," Syaoran said, brushing his brother's nit-picking hand from his shoulders, "And I don't need to find a new girl, Sakura and I just decided that we would wait a while and do things properly-"

"Why?"

"It was all a bit…fast," Syaoran muttered, not entirely sure how to convey the full weight of their decision to someone as frivolous as Eriol. He doubted his brother would ever understand, anyway.

Which made Eriol's next words all the more disconcerting. "Ah, I see," he said with a grin, "You're really becoming quite a gentleman, little brother."

"Wait," Syaoran stammered, "What?"

"Love is fickle. It's always better to take your time and arrange things properly with marriage. Mom and Dad would be so proud." He exhaled a deep breath of brotherly admiration.

"You've gone mad." Syaoran backed away slowly.

"Don't be stupid," Eriol waved this away, "Besides, you _did_ want to wait until all of your brothers were home, didn't you?"

"I do," Syaoran nodded, a pang of regret squeezing at his chest, "But Kimihiro has been gone nearly as long as you-"

"Ah, yes," Eriol grinned, "About that." He turned back toward the doorway and sighed exasperatedly. "Come on now, Kimi – don't just loom in the doorway. It's… _creepy_."

"Kimi…?" Syaoran's attention snapped back toward the figure in the doorway (that he had to admit was, indeed, looming a bit). "Kimihiro? How in the- But… How did you end up here of all places?"

"I, uh…" Watanuki mumbled, scratching nervously at his forehead as he wandered into the heart of the room.

"Don't ask him too much," Eriol hissed loudly enough to be heard into the next room, "He can't remember a whole lot. Seemed to know my name, but doesn't remember a damned thing about growing up together."

"I can _hear_ you, you know!" Watanuki grumbled.

"That's great!" Eriol clapped his hands together. "It means your ears haven't been damaged as well. Kimi, this is Syaoran," he paused expectantly, then sighed and continued when he received no sign of recognition, "Our brother. Our brother whom I seemingly incorrectly told you was getting married today."

"Yeah, I got that much," Watanuki grumbled.

Eriol sighed heavily once again. "You really don't remember at all?"

"I'm sorry…"

"It's fine," Eriol said, with enough conviction to surprise even Watanuki, "I can't help but feel you're probably happier like this anyway."

Syaoran bit his tongue. It was too touching of a family moment to ruin with accusations.

"Still," Eriol continued, a wicked glint crossing over his eyes, "You're sure you don't remember the time Syaoran put lizard eggs in your breakfast cereal and told you they were candy?"

"That was _you_!" Syaoran blurted indignantly.

"Or the time he redecorated your room using sugar paste and the all the ants got in and nested in your underwear drawers?"

_"Also you-"_

"Or about the time you kissed one of mother's servant girls and made her cry? Oooh – I should tell your priest friend about that one-"

"I remember the time you took off chasing some woman you'd dreamed up and I lost all of my memories trying to find you," Watanuki said at last. "Well, sort of. I mean, I don't remember losing my memories and don't specifically remember much of-"

"Is that really where you've been all this time?" Eriol looked as if he'd just been smacked.

"Yes," Watanuki admitted, "Kind of. It's been a long…well, you wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"You'll have to try us sometime," Eriol said, turning his attention back to Syaoran and his hideous robes. "But it will have to be later, because we need to escort our poor, sad brother here down to the garden for the royal wedding."

"Right," Syaoran agreed, shrugging the robes back into their proper positions. "You're coming, aren't you Kimihiro? So we can talk more at dinner and well…"

"Yeah," Watanuki said, still feeling vaguely uncomfortable even amongst his true family, "I think…I think I would like that."

"I'm glad," Syaoran smiled. And he was. Today was shaping up to be an auspicious start to the rest of his life, even if he wasn't getting married himself, and even if he _was_ doomed to sport these red and green abominations he was fairly certain Touya had personally selected to embarass him. "Let's head down to the gardens."

* * *

"I am telling you, it's a well-known fact that royal weddings are amongst the most boring ceremonies in all of creation. No one wants to _hear_ about them, much less sit through one. I'm impressed you managed to stand through the whole thing."

"I thought it was lovely," Sakura laughed as Eriol spun her a bit too rapidly in their waltz and nearly sent the both of them careening into the punch bowl, "Besides, I think there are plenty of people here who would disagree with you."

"I'm just saying," Eriol continued, narrowly avoiding a second collision with a topiary, "That you shouldn't have any regrets about forgoing your marriage plans for today."

"I don't," she smiled. And it was true; she far preferred the way today's ceremonies had actually proceeded to anything she might have dreamt up to include herself in them. Watching her brother and the man he loved say their vows after so many years of wanting and waiting was truly one of the happiest moments of her life, even if it had required that she stand still for a short eternity in the ridiculous shoes Tomoyo had picked to complement her dress. And Syaoran, dressed proudly in _her_ family's colors, had proved his devotion – not only to her, but to her family as well. (At least, she assumed that was the purpose of debasing himself in those hideous robes. She would have to discuss updating some of their family's traditional clothing before their own wedding…)

"Ah, I envy my brother," Eriol sighed.

"What?" Sakura wondered as he dipped her, "Why?"

"He'll be truly happy," Eriol answered simply.

"You're not being perverted again, are you?"

"When have I ever been perverted?" Sakura laughed, but cut herself short as an arm caught about the waist. "I'm so sorry," she blustered to whoever had caught her, "We're not very good at this."

"That's because Eriol's been wandering in the woods and hasn't practiced his dance steps in ages," Syaoran answered her, squeezing tightly around her middle.

"That's not fair, Syaoran," Eriol pouted, "You don't know what I've been doing in the woods."

"And I don't want to, either," Syaoran insisted, "But I would like to dance, if you don't mind?"

"I suppose I don't," Eriol agreed with a smirk and passed Sakura's hand gently to her fiancé, "Thank you, m'lady."

"The pleasure was all mine," she assured him with a quick courtesy before turning to Syaoran. She exhaled happily and leaned into rest her head on his shoulder.

"You don't have to be nice to him, you know," Syaoran muttered as his brother disappeared into the crowd.

"Of course I do!" Sakura said, sounding scandalized, "We're going to be family!" "He doesn't have to come." "He does, though," Sakura insisted, fingering Syaoran's robes, "He's going to look stunning in red and green."

Syaoran chuckled quietly at this. "However you want it," he assured her.

"Good," she grinned into his shoulder, "Now be careful where you're leading – we're going to end up in the fountain if you don't watch your backsteps."

* * *

Watanuki stared into the mug of ale he'd been nursing for the past hour and wondered for the umpteenth time just what he was doing here. All around him the sounds of merriment carried on at high volume as revelers danced and shouted into the night. He, though, was completely unable to rouse himself to their level, having expending too much of his energy in pursuit of not-freaking-out-or-passing-out while "meeting" and dining with the rest of his family and old acquaintances. His head throbbed with the exertion – he was sure the memories were lurking there, just beneath the surface, but try as he might, he was completely unable to recover more than feelings and fleeting images.

And so he had opted to drink. This had seemed like a reasonable way to spend the evening – especially at a party of this size – until he inadvertently insulted one of the serving wenches and was instantly reminded by a flagon to the head exactly _how_ poorly he handled his liquor. He'd found an empty seat tucked neatly into a dark corner of the garden shortly thereafter and had retired there in hopes of spending the evening by his lonesome, enjoying the music and the sounds without having to actually partake in either.

"Oi."

Hopes which were apparently about to be dashed.

"Oi yourself," Watanuki groaned as Doumeki dragged a chair loudly across the garden tiles to sit next to him. "Where have you been?"

"Mingling," Doumeki parked himself in the chair and leaned backward, yawning and making a great show of relaxing.

"You don't strike me as a mingler."

Doumeki shrugged. "It's the job."

"I see." Watanuki stared into the dancing crowd, unsure of what to say next.

"You still coming back to the village with me?" Doumeki asked after a long silence.

"I…" Watanuki trailed off, unsure how he should answer, especially as he didn't particularly know what he himself wanted, "I guess."

"You could go back home with your family. I won't be offended."

"Why would you be offended by that, you creep?" Watanuki demanded, "Of course I can go home with my family. Why wouldn't I go home with my family? They're my family!" He huffed out the last of an angry breath and reconsidered. "It's just…"

"You still don't remember them?"

"No," Watanuki answered honestly, "And I feel…"

"Weird?"

"Yes-"

"Awkward?"

"That too-"

"Like a jackass?"

"Shut the hell up!" Watanuki shifted his chair away from the idiot priest. "But…yes. To all of those."

"It's fine," Doumeki assured him, fixing his beady little eyes directly onto Watanuki's face, "You're welcome to stay with me as long as you want. You can visit them, whatever you want. I have room to spare, and I suppose I owe you for that steamy kiss-"

"Oh, don't you go getting any ideas you sick-"

"Hey, Watanuki."

"What?"

"Shut up."

"You shut up!" Watanuki buried his face into his hands and groaned loudly. How dare this bastard ex-centaur be so accommodating? He just wanted to hate him in peace, and yet-

"What?" Doumeki asked, backing away slowly, as if he were afraid.

"God help me," Watanuki muttered, and without another though, closed the distance between them to plant another possibly-not-quite-steamy kiss on Doumeki's lips.

* * *

The celebration roaring six stories below Kurogane's perch on the courtyard balcony seemed to be going very well, especially considering the amount of alcohol the royal family had provided their guests. Oh sure, there was the inevitable parade of drunks to and from the serving stations, and two of the monstrously huge wine barrels had already been emptied before the orchestra had even struck their first chords, but most of the trouble makers would be taken care of by the human security units and his own ground forces (as would most of the alcohol, he noted with a hint of despair, and hoped the idiots didn't get too sloshed while they were still on duty…); his job was simply to keep an eye on things from afar (Tomoyo had expressly forbid him from shadowing her through the entire affair, so this was the best option for surveillance – though the need for his sharp attention deprived him of partaking in the same manner as the rest of his squadron). That was the easy part – the difficult part was keeping himself hidden from certain uninvited party guests that were hell-bent on distracting him from his very. important. work.

"Get out of here," he snapped for what seemed like the hundredth time that evening, "I told you I have to work – you're fluttering up my line of sight."

"But Kuro-sama," Fay pouted back at him and, goddamn it, even his wings, tucked back as inconspicuously as he could manage as he settled himself onto the ledge next to Kurogane, were proving to be a distraction. He'd done something to them, Kurogane was quite sure; the silver curlicue piping around their edges seemed to gleam in the star light and he was damned sure that their blue fill hadn't sparkled (at least not this obnoxiously) the last time he'd seen them. Good gods, the man was a walking distraction. "It's so boring down there without you," he looked forlorn, "I suppose I could try pranking the wedding party…"

Kurogane shuddered. They'd already had enough trouble with that particular party of humans to last a lifetime. "Do it and I'll have every single one of my men on you so fast you won't know what hit you."

"Threaten me with a good time," Fay scoffed and elbowed Kurogane in the ribs, inching closer on the narrow concrete banister until their thighs were touching, "Say, Kuro-rin, who's the pretty lady?" He pointed down into the vast sea of party guests gathered to dance in the garden.

"Which one?" Kurogane grunted, not bothering to take his eyes off of Tomoyo, who was…waving… _up at them_ … He sighed, "That's the princess."

"Oho!" Fay clapped his hands together, "Finally a face to put with the stories." He shielded his eyes from the torch glare above and squinted down toward the crowd again, " _Hyuu_ , hard to believe you almost gave up such a lovely girl for little old me…"

Kurogane didn't waste any time cuffing the moron upside the head for that one. "Shut up."

"I'll have to be sure to thank her, later," Fay murmured.

"Don't you dare," Kurogane grumbled threateningly, "The last thing she needs is some idiot courtier catching her in an apparent conversation with herself and rumors starting up about her 'condition' again."

"Sounds like you have some experience with this," Fay teased.

"Humans are idiots," Kurogane grumbled. Fay was smiling happily, waving like a lunatic and generally making a ridiculous show of himself to Tomoyo, who was doing her best not to laugh. Kurogane rolled his eyes; he was going to catch hell for this tomorrow. If not from Bols, then at least from Tomoyo (and though the particular _type_ of hell would be different, he had no doubt they would be equally relentless).

"Poor Kuro-sama," Fay said sadly and patted his shoulder.

Kurogane froze. _Poor…?_ "What the hell…?"

"Such a beautiful night and you're still such a grumpy bugger."

"I am not a grumpy-" Kurogane growled and considered hurling Fay off the banister altogether, "I am on duty."

"Not anymore, you're not." There was a sharp kick between his shoulder blades that sent him tumbling forward; he managed to twist himself in midair just in time to catch Fuuma's smirking face as he fell. "Sorry, _Captain_ ," Fuuma pointed up at the sky, "Orders from above."

Kurogane was about to curse him out for the rude gesture that followed when he remembered that he'd best start flapping if he didn't want to leave a dent in the sidewalks (or worse, land with some particularly obscene bit of the garden fountain jammed in his nether regions). He was grateful when a sinewy arm latched beneath his shoulder to right him in the air currents.

"Clumsy," Fay chided as Kurogane steadied himself. It took a moment to counter his downward momentum, which was just enough time to work up a scowl.

"I'll kill him."

"Save it for tomorrow when he's too hungover to fight back," Fay laughed and pulled them up higher into the air once again. One hand was creeping down Kurogane's side, rounding his hip to tickle at the small of his back; the other curling around Kurogane's hand-

"What the hell are you doing?"

" _Dancing_ , Kuro-rin," Fay smiled and pulled them closer together, "You can't go to a wedding and not _dance_."

"I…but…"

"Stop struggling and let me lead, if you're so embarrassed," Fay insisted. His hips were swaying now, pressing into Kurogane and conjuring up all manner of smutty thoughts. _That bastard Fuuma…_ "Stop strug-"

Kurogane snapped back to attention, his own fingers digging into Fay's back as he pulled them in a different direction entirely. If he was going to be forced to dance, he was going to lead, damn it. There wasn't really much he could do about Fuuma hooting and hollering from the sidelines at the moment, but he could certainly punch him in the face tomorrow morning, which made things much better. And if Fay was going to laugh and bury his face in the side of his neck, well…that was probably okay too. He smelled kind of good, after all.

The orchestra below them slowed into a mellower tempo, with strings bowed instead of plucked, and sending clear woodwind notes soaring high into the night sky. Fay seemed to melt against him as they continued their ridiculous rounds above the courtyard, slowly swaying, pressing, rolling with the air currents. Kurogane exhaled in relief, despite himself. For all the hassle surrounding this overproduction of revelry, everything had fallen so neatly into place, he almost suspected it had been coordinated (probably _had_ been too, if he knew his queen…). And that was… _nice_ , he supposed. _Good_ , even. In fact-

"So," Fay said suddenly, snapping him completely out of his reverie, "I was thinking rabbits when we get home."

_Rabbits?_ What the hell…? Leave it to Fay to disrupt a perfectly content train of… _contentment._

Kurogane coughed, "What, for dinner?"

"Haha, _no_ ," Fay said meaningfully and wiggled his nose and shifted his hips forward.

Oh. _Oh._ "Oh," Kurogane coughed again, then shook the fog from his head, "I want dragons."

"Ahaha! You'll start the forest on fire again!"

_"I will not!"_

"Will too, Kuro-screamer."

_"Shut up."_

When words failed to drown out the teasing, Kurogane resorted to the only method he'd ever (and only recently, at that) found effective and bent in to kiss the idiot – a jumbled mess of clashing lips and tongues and teeth that still didn't feel quite practiced, but felt incredibly right all the same.

He was almost sad that the humans, lost in their obliviousness and dancing below, couldn't see this.

* * *

The air on the ground seemed to buzz with an energy that was not entirely natural. Or so Touya interpreted it. In truth, he had lost the better part of his inhibitions down the bottom of a wine barrel some hours earlier and was very likely buzzing himself as he dragged he husband around the dance floor, grinning and beaming like an idiot at throngs of people he didn't know or even care to know. It was a level of carefree the young lord did not often experience and so if it felt unnatural, he had only his usual high-strung countenance to blame.

"My dear To-ya, I do believe you're actually having a good time," Yukito teased, "Is it because Lady Akizuki hasn't shown her face yet?"

"Don't tempt fate," Touya murmured into Yukito's hair, "Maybe she flung herself into the river."

"That's not even funny," Yukito dug a knuckle into Touya's side, chuckling.

"Then why are you laughing."

"I'm not," Yukito deflected, pulling a step back from his dancing partner, "I think I need a break. My feet are killing me."

"Evasion," Touya scoffed, but released his arm from around Yukito's waist.

"A perfectly timed evasion, too," Queen Kendappa's voice announced from behind him, "As I would love to cut in."

"You Majesty," Touya bowed deeply as Yukito stepped to the side. He watched his husband disappear into the crowd with a pang of regret, but quickly turned his attention and outstretched hand to the queen.

"Just be careful not to step on the royal feet," she chided him, "Souma has a nasty temper, and no patience for harm that comes my way."

"I," Touya stammered, "I will try, Your Majesty."

"Glad to hear it," Queen Kendappa graciously accepted his hand and immediately moved to lead their waltz. "It has been a fine day, Lord Touya. Do you agree?"

"It has, Your Majesty."

"And has everything turned out to your liking?"

Touya mulled this question over for a moment, then admitted, "I'm afraid I don't follow."

"Your sister, your husband," the queen clarified, "Your soon-to-be brother-in-law. I trust you're pleased with the outcome our arrangement. It would be a shame if you still wished to slaughter the poor young man, especially as he and your sister are the legal witnesses to your marriage?"

"Ah," Touya nodded, finally understanding through his haze, "Quite happy. I'm quite happy. _We're_ quite happy."

"As is your sister, I'm sure. As am I," the queen smiled at him, "Though I'm sure Lady Akizuki will be devastated."

Touya shuddered involuntarily and scanned the crowd for any sight of the love-lorn menace. "Will she really?"

"Terribly," the queen smirked, "Although you should have some respite for tonight at least."

"Oh?"

"Yes. I'm afraid she was called away on some urgent business."

"How…sad for her," Touya manage, trying not to sound overly gleeful.

"Truly." Queen Kendappa spun them several times through the parting crowds, clearly reveling in the opportunity to let loose some of the authoritative air she normally held in court and enjoy herself amongst her subjects. Touya, for his part, felt much the same – especially now as he knew he was free of the watchful eyes of scorned lovers. They came to rest eventually at the head table, where both Souma and Yukito were enjoying the last dregs of a wine barrel. "And now if you'll excuse me, Lord Touya," the queen released his hand, "I think it's time I got to my wife. Congratulations once again on your marriage. I wish you all the best."

Touya bowed low to her. "And to yours as well, Your Majesty."

* * *

The royal balconies were, without a doubt, the fairy queen's favorite place in her palace to spend a quiet evening. And this evening was quieter than most; she had given most of her staff leave to attend the humans' festivities and pilfer food and drink to their hearts' content, leaving only a bare skeleton crew to watch over the essential functions of the palace. It was a nice change from the hustle and bustle that normally filled the corridor here; though she had to admit, as she pulled the cork out a bottle of exceptionally fine dandelion wine she had been saving for the occasion, that tonight of all nights she would have preferred the company.

But no matter, the air was cool and fresh with the scent of night-blooms and the fireworks that inevitably followed royal nuptials would soon light up the distant sky.

"Decided to give the royal wedding a miss, then?"

She turned toward the railing behind her, just in time to see a red-haired fairy set tip-toes down on its banister and bounce gracefully to the balcony itself. "Lady Akizuki," she smiled ruefully, "Or, that's not right, is it? How are you, my dear Ruby Moon? I thought for certain that you would be eager to partake in the festivities yourself. Especially with your…newfound heart-throb?"

"What, you mean as the lovely and terrifying Lady?" she shook her head, sending a cascade of brown washing down her red locks and laughing, "I've had quite enough of that disguise, thank you very much. Besides which, the new boy-toy proved to be not-so-much-fun after you dosed him with your evil pets – he's been completely preoccupied with that…advisor of his. Or should I say, husband." She worked her face into a pout and flopped onto an empty divan, "It's no fun at all anymore."

Yuuko cocked an eyebrow and raised her glass, "Surely you're aware that marriage means far less to most humans than to we fairies?"

"Haha!" Ruby Moon laughed and her hair faded back to its original red, "More than averagely aware, but I suppose that's what comes of keeping company like your own," she frowned, "Still, I doubt Master Eriol would support something like that. He's very…kind."

"He certainly seems to be," Yuuko's face softened, "At least as far as you have described him. You've decided to stay with him, then?"

"I thought those were my orders? Or has my duty come to an end now that he's been reunited with his family and the younger brothers assured happily-ever-afters of their own?" Ruby Moon stretched her arm to snatch the open bottle from the table between them and fill glass for herself, pausing before she spoke again, "He still hasn't given up searching for you, you know."

"I know," Yuuko breathed quietly over the rim of her glass, "It's for the best that we don't meet."

Ruby Moon rolled onto her back and kicked one foot up to balance across the opposite knee, "Even if he does share the same soul as Clow, he's not really the same, is he?"

"Well, I think the fact that you like him should be evidence enough of that."

"True," Ruby Moon considered this and took a long sip of wine, "Though, in fairness, he hasn't gone off and had children with a human and then begged you to look after them as his dying wish as Clow did, has he?"

"And he won't," Yuuko said with finality and leaned back in her seat, "I've made certain of that."

"You still don't blame Clow, do you?"

"He had obligations to the human world. Who was I to deny him that?"

"The Queen?"

"Alright, that's quite enough Clow-bashing for one evening. You might be my dearest friend, but I can still banish you." Yuuko downed the last of her wine and draped an arm over her face.

"Isn't that what you've done already?" Ruby Moon snickered, "Not that I'm complaining, mind you, but don't think I won't be happy to return to the fairy kingdom proper once this little babysitting adventure has come to a close. Unless, of course…just how many generations of his descendents are you planning on keeping watch over, anyway? This is already, what, the fourth?"

Yuuko nodded and refilled her glass. "I suppose as many as I am able…"

Ruby Moon sighed and kicked her heels up, "Your devotion is remarkable."

"Don't be ridiculous," Yuuko scoffed and tossed a cushion in her direction, "It's purely political. It's imperative that certain humans be made aware of our existence. Otherwise they burn the forest and build shopping arcades – is that how you want to spend the rest of eternity? Flitting from rooftop to rooftop, remembering our once-glorious home amongst the trees?"

"Oh, and it _just so_ happens that these certain humans are invariably the decedents of your dearest love, Clow Reed?"

Yuuko shrugged, "Nothing wrong with killing two birds with one stone, is there?" she eyed her glass happily, "Leaves me with more time for drinking."

"That may be true, but his decedents have this amazing habit of being as batty as he was. Look at that one you just sent home – mad as a gelded centaur, he was. You think other humans will actually listen to a word he says?"

Yuuko had to laugh at that, "No, I don't expect that they will. I do, however, expect that the myths and legends that spring up from his tales will continue to protect our home, much as those of his ancestors have for thousands of years."

"At least until humans stop believing altogether."

"Yes," Yuuko frowned, "But that is a matter for a far distant time. For now, let us enjoy our drink and watch the fireworks, shall we?" she grinned, "I do _so_ love their fireworks."

"You would," Ruby Moon muttered, with the distinct implication that she had far to say on the matter but was dutifully holding her tongue, "I suppose, then. What shall we drink to?"

"Hmm," Yuuko tapped her chin thoughtfully, "To our continued health and prosperity?"

"Boring," Ruby Moon yawned, then pulled her face into a devious smirk, "How about to love?" she taunted, "As that is what has gathered us all together today?"

Yuuko scoffed once again and held her drink close to her chest. After a moment, however, her face soften and she raised her glass toward her companion. "To the most insidious of all emotions, then."

Ruby Moon clinked her glass with a smile, "You old sap, you."

The fairy queen only nodded as the humans' fireworks lit the night sky above them.


End file.
